An Unexpected Surprise
by Annemarie01
Summary: These chapters have already been posted as the epilogue of A Night to Remember but in fact they form a story in itself. So I decided to post them as a separate short tale as well. Something strange is going on with Hawke and a concerned Fenris desperately wants to know what. They're both will be highly surprised when they find out ...
1. Chapter 1

**As I have mentioned in the summary, this story is part of, or better, the end of A Night to remember. Although it can be read as an independent tale, I think some explanation should be in order.**

**In "A Night" Anders isn't the villain; in fact, after a whole range of hectic events, he makes it to First Enchanter with Cullen as Knight Commander and Aveline as Viscountess. But after the peace and quiet finally have returned, something else happens. Some would call it disturbing, other exciting. If you want to know more about the background, just read the whole story but of course you don't have to. **

**As a PS, the sex scene in chapter 2 is in fact a reaction on what happened earlier but again there's no need to read that first.**

**Enjoy!**

An Unexpected Surprise Chapter 1

_Several weeks after all the excitement_

'Is Albran still not awake?' Orana sounded innocently surprised. 'I mean, we all know she's not an early riser but it's close to mid-day by now and normally she's up and about around this time. If only because she craves for her morning coffee.' She looked expectantly at Fenris who sat silently at the kitchen table, absentmindedly munching his breakfast. Just like his wife he wasn't a morning person though usually he got out of bed before her. It had become a habit to bathe and dress while he let her sleep just a while longer. Especially after all that had happened. She deserved her rest. Normally though she would join him at the breakfast table with a yawned "Good morning" and come alive halfway her first mug of coffee. Before that it would be close to suicide to disturb her brittle peace, after those precious sips she suddenly was able to face the whole world and all the ugly problems it threw at her. And yes, normally at this time of day she would have come to life.

Fenris looked up with slight confusion.

He had been pleasantly surprised to hear Orana call her employer "Albran" without the appalling additive "Mistress". He cocked his head, the hand that had taken an apple from the fruit basket sitting on the table hovered halfway his mouth. 'It is rather late, even for her, I give you that. Not completely her style.' He caught the twinkle in Orana's eyes and assumed it wasn't hard to guess what she was thinking. Making love all night could wear a person completely out. But he knew that hadn't been the case. Not this time. Albran had been asleep before her head had hit the pillow. He put the apple back and tried fervently not to turn red under Orana's amused scrutinizing eyes. 'I will check on her. And take a cup of coffee with me,' he added hastily, knowing how much she hated to be hauled out of her bed but could be mollified with just the scent of the precious black liquid.

Little he knew the mischievous smile on Orana's face had had nothing to do with what did or did not happen the previous night.

'Albran, love.' Fenris had put the mug with steaming coffee down on the side-table next to the bed and gently poked her. 'Don't you think you have slept enough by now? Time to wake up.' He was met with a grumpily groan. She stirred but didn't reply. He carried on. 'There are invitations you have to turn down and Varric wants to know if we will be present at this night of wicked grace.' He made that last part up, knowing it would kindle her interest. She was always in for a game of wicked grace, if only to gloat upon the distraught if not wounded look the dwarf threw her when she managed to beat him at the game. Not so this morning.

'I want to sleep,' she murmured sulkily and hid her face in the pillow.

Right. Time to try another approach. He sat down on the side of the bed and drew his fingers slowly through her dishevelled hair. He stooped over her and mumbled into her ear, 'I brought you coffee.' He paused for a moment and let his voice drop a few notches to the soft rumbling resonating level he knew she couldn't resist. 'And if you don't want that, I can provide you with some other – alluring features.'

To his nasty surprise she swatted his hand away and pulled at the blankets in an attempt to cover her head. 'I _said_, I want to sleep.' This time she sounded outright irritated.

Not used to this kind of response to his seductive voice he lost his patience and stood up at once. His manly pride was hurt. 'It is already too late to _sleep_ late, ' he growled fractiously and hauled with a swift and angry gesture the covers from her lovely frame.

'Oh bloody hell,' she countered crossly. She sat up with a jolt and glared spitefully at him. 'Okay, have it your way.' She jumped out of bed and threw her arms wide with a dramatic gesture. 'There. Out of bed. Happy now?' He had no time to admire her beautiful naked body because she staggered violently not a moment later.

Suddenly her vision became blurred. Everything started to whirl around her and a fountain of white stars exploded behind her eyes. She swayed, desperately trying to keep her equilibrium; she heard Fenris say something but his voice seemed to come from far away. She took an uncertain step forward, tripped over her own feet and collapsed. Despite his shock Fenris reacted in an instant and was just in time to catch her. He lowered her gently on the bed, still holding her close and she leaned her head heavily against his shoulder. Concerned he put a hand on her forehead but could not feel a disturbing rise of temperature. 'Are you ill? You don't feel feverish.' He sounded troubled.

Even in her drowsily condition she on her turn managed to sound annoyed. 'Of course I'm not ill. I just stood up too fast. That's what you get when you want to drag me out of bed against my will.' She didn't convince him and she knew it. She didn't even convince herself. 'And I'm hungry,' she added lamely.

He raised his brow in confusion. Even if that were true, her behaviour was still strange. But if it took just some food to deal with her extremely foul mood this morning, or almost afternoon, he would see to it she would receive it to get her back on her feet. 'That can be remedied. Just stay here, I will get you something to eat.' He tucked her in again and smiled charmingly. 'Breakfast in bed, how about that.' She didn't reply and he worriedly hurried out of the bedroom.

When he returned with a tray laden with bread, fruit and a plate with Orana's unsurpassed scrambled eggs, he found her leaning back against the pillows with her knees pulled up and wearing an expression that lingered somewhere between frustration and remorse. He noticed she hadn't touched her coffee and frowned.

'I'm sorry I yelled at you,' she said meekly, 'I don't know what came over me. After all you were right.' She didn't explain what exactly he had been right about. 'I, er, I tried to get up once more but almost fainted all over again. I really must be hungry.'

Fenris frowned some more. _Must_ be hungry? She couldn't say for sure? But he plastered a smile upon his face and handed her the plate with the scrambled eggs. 'Here you go,' he said jovially, 'and I see the coffee has gone cold. I'll you fetch you a new cup.'

Albran wrinkled her nose in disgust. 'Don't bother,' she said, 'I don't feel like coffee this morning.' In fact the mere aroma had almost made her nauseous.

Now he got really alarmed but he tried not to show it. 'Tea?' he suggested weakly. At the same time he decided he would consult Anders if she'd take this any further. He almost wanted to shout out loud, 'Who are you and what have you done to my wife?!'

She gave him a lopsided smile. 'Tea would be nice.' At the same time she stuffed her mouth with the scrambled eggs but stopped eating after a few bites. Instead she started to move the pieces of fried eggs listlessly along the plate with her fork. 'It's a lot of food,' she murmured.

'You said you were hungry,' Fenris reacted testily. There definitely was something horribly wrong and he wished he knew what it was.

'I am not hungry anymore,' Albran stated firmly and put the plate on the side-table next to the untouched mug of coffee.

Fenris could just restrain himself to scream at her by biting his lip until it bled. But in the end he managed to get her out of bed and persuade her to get dressed. He brought her a cup of tea which she accepted gracefully and with an apologetically smile that melted his heart.

'You're the best that ever happened to me,' she assured him, 'I love you so much.' She kissed him warmly and he was willing to forgive her anything.

But he felt not that forgiving anymore when the same scene got repeated the next day and the day after that and again on the fourth day. He grew extremely vexed if not mortally afraid and his patience waned visibly. He completely missed the increasing fun Orana and Bodahn shared each time he returned to the kitchen to get some food or drink Albran had ordered and turned down the moment he had brought it to her.

'They still don't get it, do they,' the dwarf smirked after Fenris had disappeared for the umpteenth time, with a thunderous and at the same time very concerned expression flinging down an untouched dish of apple-pie and taking an unpeeled orange instead upstairs.

Orana very hard tried not to laugh out loud. 'They will find out soon enough. I hope.' She beamed impishly. 'Perhaps it would have been better if she had had the morning sickness. That always helps to trigger the mind.' She giggled. 'I'm afraid if this goes on some longer we will have to tell them.' And finally she couldn't avoid that explosion of laughter. 'Maker, who would have thought two people so worldly-wise could be so naïve and ignorant.'

'Cinnamon bums?' Sandal offered the moment the desperate elf returned from another unsuccessful mission. He let his words accompany with a broad innocent though somewhat uncertain smile.

Fenris started to scowl at the small dwarf but immediately changed his mind and demeanour. He realised the current mess wasn't the boy's fault. He sighed and sank down on a chair. He shot Sandal a tired smile. 'Why not. Everything else failed.'

'All right, I've had it,' Fenris said on the fifth morning, after he had got her with much effort and resistance on her part dressed for the day, 'I'm taking you to Anders now.'

'There's absolutely no need,' Albran started stubbornly.

'I said _now_!' Fenris shouted angrily. He grabbed her arm and without further ado he dragged her through the cellars to the clinic where he knew the healer held consulting hours during the morning. All the way she protested indignantly but he paid her no heed. 'Just shut up,' he finally snapped while he hauled her through the door. Inwardly he thanked whatever deity was listening the clinic was empty. Apparently nowadays even the people living in Darktown found their way to the Gallows - the Free Circle, he corrected himself, to find cure for their illness or injuries. The word had spread like a wildfire. Undercity habitants accepted at the posh even if still half ruined Gallows was a happening apparently everyone liked to experience. Even the ones who weren't sick or injured he suspected. In an absent way he noticed the clinic was swept clean and the empty cots where covered with bright white sheets. It even smelled nice. A vague aroma of lavender entered his nostrils.

Anders looked up from the tome he had been studying at the solid oaken writing desk that had replaced the smashed flimsy old one. He stood and stared confused from one to the other. Even or better especially after he had become the First Enchanter he cherished the early morning hours in his clinic. Probably because it was the only time he could find some peace and quiet. Or perhaps to get some familiar and reliable foothold in his overwhelming new world. 'What seems to be the problem?'

'You tell me,' Fenris snarled, 'or better her.' He pushed Albran in Anders's direction. 'For five days now she can hardly drag herself out of bed in the mornings. She is complaining of being dead tired and she gets dizzy all the time. She says she's hungry but doesn't want to eat. Look how pale she is! Don't say this is normal. And she doesn't like coffee anymore!' he ended as if playing his trump cart. He frowned and added, 'I'm deeply worried but she won't have it.' He looked at her angrily. 'Stubborn woman.'

Anders cocked his head and narrowed his eyes. 'Is this true Hawke?'

She grumbled morosely something about a storm in a tea cup and overprotecting marbari behaviour but didn't deny the charges.

'You'd better lie down then so I can examine you.'

With a face like a thunderstorm she followed his order and lay down on one of the new cots and grudgingly let Anders do his work. 'This better be worth my time,' she said ominously to both her husband and the healer. 'I keep telling you, there's nothing wrong with me.' Fenris glared darkly back.

After a few minutes Anders stood straight with a tiny and amused smile on his face. He scratched the back of his head.

'What?' Hawke asked, sitting up, 'why are you smiling like that? What's so funny?'

Anders tried to keep a straight face. 'When was your last period?'

'What has that to do with it,' she bit back, if possible getting more exasperated.

He sighed, rolling his eyes. 'Just answer the question, Hawke. It can't be that difficult.'

She clasped her hands in her lap and looked annoyed. 'I don't know. So many things happened, I didn't give it much attention. Probably last month.' She was silent for a while and frowned contemplatively. 'Or the month before ...' Her expression suddenly became confused. She thought for a few moments longer. 'Or perhaps a couple of months; it, it _could_ be two ... not long before out actual wedding day ... but not after I think. That was ...' She stopped talking when the implications hit home. Her eyes grew wide. 'Oh fuck.' And realised at the same moment the stupidity of that particular swearword.

A big grin appeared on Anders's face. 'That's what I figured. Nice expression by the way, very accurate.' She wanted to strangle him but only managed to stare breathlessly. He paused for a moment to let the effect fully kick in. 'Congratulations Hawke. You're pregnant.' From the corner of his eye he saw Fenris become completely rigid. With a lot of effort he smothered an upcoming hearty laugh.

Hawke jumped from the cot and stared at him with panic. She had to hold on to the small bed to keep her balance. 'What? That can't be! How is that possible?!"

'Weeeell,' Anders said with a naughty twinkle in his eyes, 'when two people love each other very much –'

'I know that!' she cut him short with an aggravated growl, 'don't give me that crap; I'm not a child. I mean how can I be pregnant so out of the blue? I never even gave it a thought! This cannot be true! I wasn't expecting this!'

Anders grinned broadly. 'On the contrary I should say –'

'Shut up!' Hawke yelled, 'don't you dare to utter that stupid pun!' And suddenly she burst out in tears. With an aggressive twirl she turned to Fenris and pointed an accusing finger at her bewildered husband. 'This is all your fault!' she wailed.

The poor elf, completely stunned already by Anders's declaration, became even more upset. He looked helplessly at the First Enchanter.

'Welcome to the wonderful world of mood swings,' the mage chortled with wicked glee, 'I should get used to it if I were you. It will last for about half a year. At least.'

Fenris stepped over to his wife and closed her in his arms. 'I'm, er, sorry?' he volunteered, absolutely not knowing what else to say.

Heatedly she pummelled his chest. 'You idiot!' she yelled, 'why would you be sorry? How can you say such a thing! _Are_ you sorry? Aren't you happy with it? You told me you wanted to have lots of babies and now I'm pregnant with the first you're not happy with it,' she whined. And wept some more.

'I, er, yes of course I'm happy with it,' he stuttered. _At least I think I will be when this overwhelming news has got through to me._ His own words, uttered after the wondrous lovemaking in the former Viscount's ridiculous large bathtub ricocheted and hit his mind. _I want to grow old with you and have lots of little babies._ She was right. Now the first of the row he had wished for was on the way he panicked. Though apparently he wasn't the only one. He coughed awkwardly. 'But it seems you aren't.' He sounded completely forlorn._ And please stop crying._

She leant into his frame. 'But I am,' she declared with emphasis, 'it's just so sudden and strange and startling.' _You don't mean._ She looked up at him and smiled through her tears. 'Daddy Fenris,' she said and started giggling uncontrollably.

'Yes, I agree,' Fenris said desperately, 'it's very funny.' He drew his fingers through her hair. 'Perhaps it's best I take you home and make you a cup of tea? And then we can try to digest this information.'

She pushed him away. 'Don't patronise me!' she shouted furiously.

He staggered a step back. Yes, she had stopped crying but this was no improvement.

And then Anders burst out laughing.

They both looked at him, totally befuddled, forgetting all about their silly argument.

'What ..?' they asked in united irritation.

Anders wasn't able to utter an understandable word for quite a while but finally he managed, 'I believe Orana has won the bet.'

Albran and Fenris looked first puzzled at each other before they turned their guarded attention back to the hiccupping mage. 'Meaning?' Fenris asked cautiously.

'Oh, for the Maker's sake,' Anders hooted, 'it was so obvious Albran is pregnant! We all knew it. We all placed bets on when you finally would find out.'

Hawke narrowed her eyes. 'What do you mean, _it was so obvious? _I haven't even been sick!'

'You will be surprised at the number of women who don't suffer from the notorious morning disease,' Anders grinned, 'but the way you have been behaving of late spoke volumes.' He crumbled a little under her murderous glare. 'Let us say your, er, colourful character has become even more flamboyant. In fact we have been wondering how long Fenris would be able to cope with it before he would snap and try to do something about it. You yourself would not admit something's the matter even if you were lying on your deathbed.'

She glowered daggers at him. 'So you say I have been acting like a monster.'

'Well, that's perhaps a bit exaggerated, but –'

'No, you haven't at all,' Fenris interrupted him resolutely, 'strange, yes, but absolutely not like a monster.' He shot Anders a fierce look.

'That's brilliant,' Albran scoffed, 'apparently I've been the laughing stock of all of my friends. My _so-called_ friends,' she added venomously.' She turned on her heels. 'I've heard enough. Come on, Fenris, let's go home. That is, if you can stomach my _flamboyant_ behaviour.' And she stomped off. Fenris followed her but not after he had given the mage something that could only be described as the evil eye.

After they had left, Anders once again burst out in a fit of roaring laughter.


	2. Chapter 2

**As I already announced before, this chapter is mostly about smut. And then some more smut. Of course you can skip it if you're not into that kind of stuff.**

**For the ones who are, enjoy!**

An Unexpected Surprise Chapter 2

Fenris stood silently at the window of the Viscount's office, waiting for the Viscountess herself. The new Viscountess named Aveline. He admired her for the grace and ease she had accepted the position; it had to be demanding, handling the problems of the city on a daily basis, even with Anders as the new First Enchanter and Cullen as the new Knight Commander. A real pain in the ass and a weight upon the shoulders but she managed without outwardly showing any stress or tiredness. Of course she did; if anyone knew the meaning of duty and took it seriously it was she. She was so much better at organising, delegating, taking decisions, well, in short so much better a Viscount than Dumar ever had been and Meredith ever could have hoped to become. After all the calamities and stressful events that had happened, she was exactly what Kirkwall needed, he mused. His eyes wandered over the garden; even in mid-winter the place didn't look like a barren wasteland due to the collection of evergreen trees and shrubs that had been planted times ago. A few gardeners were collecting the last fallen leaves and another one was trimming the lavender bushes so they could bloom in full glory next summer.

He turned when Aveline entered the room. 'I'm sorry I let you wait for this long, Fenris,' she said apologetically, 'but the Seneschal has the tendency to wail and whine about every lost pencil and to make a big issue out of it. What can I do for you?' She indicated the chair opposite her desk. 'Please take a seat. Do you fancy a glass of wine? I know I do.' With a heavy sigh she slumped into her chair. But not before she managed to grasp a bottle and two glasses.

'I do also, thank you,' Fenris replied thankfully while sitting down. He waited until she had filled two glasses and proffered him one. He took up his courage after a sip of the rich red liquid. 'You asked me once to train your men in the technique of Tevinter fighting,' he started hesitantly, 'does that offer still stands?'

Aveline cocked her brow. 'You declined back then. With vicious force as I remember. What has changed your mind?'

He put the glass back on the desk and avoided her eyes. 'As you know I'm going to have a family very soon.' He snorted derisively. 'I suppose the whole of Kirkwall know about that right now.' He picked up the glass again and took another small sip. He waltzed the wine around. All the while Aveline studied his face that wasn't as broody as it used to be but still was hard to read. 'I want to provide for them on my own accord. At least I suppose the, er, job comes with a stipend ..?'

She looked at him, tried to comprehend him and when she did she could hardly suppress an approving smile. In the end it turned out it wasn't that difficult to comprehend. But she decided to play it hard. Or at least to make him sweat. 'You know Hawke could buy the whole of Kirkwall if she wished so ..?' She let the question hover in the air and found it very educating to witness the way he tried to stay as composed as possible. Sometimes it was fun to be a tease.

'Yes, I'm aware of that. But it's her money, not mine. Like I said I want to provide for my – wife and child myself. Call it stupid male pride but –'

Aveline interrupted him with a gesture of her hand and laughed wholeheartedly. 'No Fenris, I don't see it that way! I completely understand. In fact I think it's most admirable.' She took in his relieved and slightly bemused expression and grinned broadly. 'Congratulations, Fenris, you have the job. And yes, it comes with a stipend.' She thought for a short moment. It was her task – or freedom – to come up with the pay. Or better, the reward. 'Fifteen sovereigns a month.' She knew it was an outrageous amount of money. Seneschal Bran would have a heart attack and she couldn't care less. Her grin broadened even more. 'Welcome to the so-called exclusive club of Guardsmen. I expect you to make your appearance first thing in the morning.' She caught his somewhat alarmed look and laughed a little louder. 'Yes, I know you're not a morning person but we function around the clock and the exercises start at the break of day.'

Fenris nodded appreciatively. 'I understand. And I will be here tomorrow morning. At daybreak.' He shot her a fragile smile. 'Thank you.'

She raised her glass. 'You're more than welcome.'

When he opened the door to the mansion he could already hear Albran yell in distress. He cursed almost out loud. _Fucking hell, what has driven her into this state _this_ time?_ Although he knew nowadays it took little to nothing to let her have a fit of anger or weeping.

He rushed to the first floor where her voice came from en entered the room that was supposed to become the nursery. Albran was stamping her foot while she lashed out at Orana who stood firm, ostensibly unperturbed, but his blood started to boil while he was taking in the scene. He wondered how much more he was willing to accept from her frequently outrageous behaviour. Pregnant or not, she couldn't be allowed just anything; she really could be insufferable and this time she crossed the line.

'I _told_ you I wanted the green cloth for the crib,' Hawke screamed, 'so how can you decide on buying that horrendous blue velvet to make curtains out of it! It doesn't fit at all! And really, velvet? _Velvet_ for a nursery?! I want cotton! What in Andraste's name were you thinking, you horrible girl!'

Without a second thought he harshly grabbed her arm and hauled her unceremoniously out of the room and downstairs into the parlour, seething with rage and completely missing the hardly suppressed little smile playing around Orana's lips. 'I don't care if you hurl insults at me or Anders but I won't have you bawling at Orana like she is a, a _slave_!' He shouted the word with much more repulsion and emphasis than he had intended. The result was as obvious as it was predictable.

Albran got a shocked look in her eyes when realisation dawned on her. She crumbled on the couch in front of the hearth and buried her face into her palms. Her shoulders shook, in fact her whole body started to shake. His anger dissolved at the mere sight of her anguish and got replaced with dread.

_Please don't cry, don't cry, don't start crying, don't start – damn it, too late._

Remorsefully he sat down next to her and drew her into his arms when the inevitable tears began to run down her face. 'I'm sorry love, I shouldn't have yelled at you.' Anything to calm her down. _Everything_ to calm her down.

'No,' she sobbed, 'you are right. I acted like a, like a _magister_.' She spat that last word with so much disgust that all he could do was cringe.

'Don't say that,' he croaked desperately. He wanted to smack himself. He should have handled this much more tactfully.

'But I did,' she blubbered. She heaved her head and he tried to wipe the tears away. She didn't let him. 'I have to apologize to Orana,' she sniffed while she rose, irritably rubbing her moist cheeks. When she turned around she already found the small elf standing at the foot of the stairs.

'I'm so sorry,' Albran said meekly, 'I never should have flown at you. For what's it worth, I didn't mean what I said. I consider you my best friend. Not my servant, let alone my _slave_!' And again she broke out in tears.

Orana moved over to her and patted her arm. Over Albran's crooked body she threw a fiery look at Fenris that nailed him down and said more or less: _How could you, you idiot._ He made an impotent gesture back and thought involuntarily, _how am I supposed to know what to do, you bloody woman._ And after that thought, '_how am I suppose to comprehend any of your actions? From the both of you?_ With dulled attention he witnessed the next scene. 'O come now, Albran,' Orana reacted to his wife's tears soothingly and in the meantime gave her an amused lopsided grin. 'It's quite alright, don't feel bad about it. We all know what hormones can do to women. Especially expecting women.'

_Indeed_, Fenris thought viciously in the privacy of his mind, _thank the Maker Hadriana never got pregnant_. But he was wise enough not to say that out loud, not even as a teasing rather bad joke. He didn't even want to _think_ of what that might bring about.

'That's no excuse,' Hawke spluttered in the meantime, 'Anders is right, I've turned into a monster.'

Fenris groaned inwardly and firmly resolved to give the mage a black eye the first time he ran into him. First Enchanter or not. 'Nonsense,' he reacted vehemently, 'you're just – off balance now and again.' Over his wife's head he looked pleadingly at Orana who winked back at him.

'Let's go back to the nursery and you can explain to me what exactly you want with the room.' She took Albran's arm and started gently leading her to the stairs. 'I'm certain we can find another use for the velvet. Perhaps if we ...' her voice trailed off while she together with Albran disappeared back into the nursery.

Fenris slumped back on the couch. Just five more months to go. He hoped he would survive it.

When Fenris returned to the estate after a long morning of hard training sessions the house seemed to be deserted. Even Rascal didn't storm into the parlour to greet him. He had already washed the sweat and grime off his body and changed into trousers and a loose shirt at the barracks. He went to the kitchen to see if Albran was there to stuff herself with the somewhat tartly tasting little apple pies she was crazy about at the moment. No-one was present, not even the servants. He took the stairs two steps at the time and ran straight to the nursery where he expected to find her but the room was empty. He thought it very strange and frowned.

'Albran!' he called, 'are you home?' Nothing. With a disappointed sigh he walked to the bedroom to fetch the book he had left on the desk last night. If she wasn't in he could as well pass the time with some reading.

She was waiting for him behind the door of the bedchamber and caught, or rather ensnared him the moment he walked inside. She left him no time for thinking but dragged him to their bed and before he knew what was happening she had thrown him on the mattress and had tied his hands to one of the bedposts and blindfolded him.

'What are you doing?' he asked alarmed, doubting whether he enjoyed this action and would like to go along with this sudden display of curious want or would word a strong denial. He was especially anxiously wondering what had brought her to this. Declining her, however, could prove to be lethal. He had grown very wary over the last months.

'I thought you agreed on me taking the lead in our next exiting play of bondage,' he heard her say, 'you said you trusted me.'

He swallowed hard. 'I do trust you,' he replied hoarsely, still not knowing to feel excited or frightened, 'I only wished you would have announced your intentions before you pounced upon me.'

'That would have spoiled all the fun,' she said determinedly. There was a short silence. 'Now, what shall I do with you. Or rather do _to_ you?' He waited tensely for her next action. He could just avoid his markings to light up. There was another silence, followed by a much less confident, 'You don't want to do this at all, do you.' He felt her fumble with the blindfold. 'I approached this all wrong, didn't I. I'm sorry, stupid idea. I will release you right now.'

With all the shed tears and furious cries clearly in mind and because of, despite the confusing surprise, the now rising arousal, he said, 'No don't. You're right, if you'd announce it, it _would_ have spoiled all the fun. If I had informed you about what I was planning the moment I tied you to this very bedpost, I don't think the outcome would have been that exalting.' He realized it wasn't exactly the most brilliant opening line to an exhilarating evening of love making and besides that he had to admit he was growing curious. But before he could make an apology she crushed her lips upon his and he forgot everything he had wanted to say. He welcomed her tongue that entwined heatedly with his. He wanted to embrace her but the very moment found the limits of the soft silk shackles with which she had bound him. He almost reared frustrated but then felt her fingertips tenderly and at the same time with enticing pressure drawing down his body. She shredded his shirt with evident satisfaction and he could just _feel_ her content smile. She touched every taut muscle from his collarbone down to his feet with admiring attention, leaving hot traces on his skin. On her way back up she ripped away his trousers and smallclothes with one experienced movement. His breath hitched.

'You're so beautiful,' she whispered and her hot breath wrapped around his torso, making him moan. Once more he bucked, the moment she teasingly lightly caressed his prancing cock with almost hesitant fingers and touched the tip lightly with her lips. Of course he hadn't seen it coming and she overwhelmed him.

He felt her move away but it only took a few moments before he sensed her – he frowned his brow under the blindfold, do what? – rub something upon his chest and abdomen. It smelt sweet and felt creamy. 'I always wanted to do this,' her sultry voice whispered, more husky than ever. It made him quiver. 'I confess I got the idea from Isabela but since the moment she mentioned whipped cream I had this vision of you covered with the stuff and me licking it off of you.'

'Did you really have to tie me up for doing that?' he intended to ask but his voice got stuck in his throat when her tongue lapped his nipples, slowly circling around each of them. It gave him gooseflesh. She hummed approvingly while that same wicked tongue descended down his body, licking sensually every inch of skin where she apparently had spread the sweet substance. She made a show of working on his bellybutton with feather light movements with the tip of her tongue; he had a hard time not to shred the bonds. 'She was right,' she mumbled, 'you don't even have to like whipped cream to love this.'

Silently he agreed. He wondered if she was aware he not only could tear up the silk just like that or even more simple phase through the cloth. He decided she did but expected him to play along. This was a game about trust after all.

He felt her reach over him and then she touched his lips with a piece of fruit he recognised as a strawberry. 'I know you like apples but I thought this more appropriate,' she hummed in his ear, gracefully pushing the small red delicacy in his mouth. He eagerly accepted and was more than surprised when her tongue followed. She slowly twirled the strawberry around before she withdrew and pecked his lips. 'Enjoy.' Her breath stroking the shell of his ear almost drove him wild. And again he could feel her smile. He chewed and she licked the escaping juice off the corner of his mouth with a slow swirl of her tongue. For some reason it tremendously turned him on.

She shifted her body and her hands travelled through his unruly hair, making an even bigger muddle of it. She kissed the top of his head. One of her naked breasts stroked his cheek and with a deftly manoeuvre he caught the nipple between his teeth and bit gently. She moaned in surprise and retreated immediately. 'I'm in charge.' She tried to sound stern but he heard the breathless sigh behind her words. He couldn't help grinning. Next he found her nibbling his ear and not for the first time she stole his breath away. 'I think this is an appropriate punishment,' she said lowly. He almost choked when her warm voice hit him. She chuckled softly which didn't do anything to ease his mind. On the other hand, he didn't want to ease his mind. Out of instinct he closed his eyes though that wasn't necessary with the blindfold, and let her next actions come over him with delight.

Yes he trusted her. He completely trusted her. It didn't even astonish him.

She rested her hands on his chest and roved the skin of his neck, throat and shoulders with heated kisses. Her moist lips moved tantalisingly slow down his body and he let out a deep groan when they finally closed around his hard member. She grazed the sensitive tip and he couldn't help grunting out her name. Skilfully she sucked his shaft with a hunger that only kindled his arousal more while she buried her fingers in the tight muscles of his behind. He could but just prevent a mighty orgasm. 'Albran,' he rasped throatily, 'please, I want to come inside you.'

She let go of his firm cock and straddled him. Her soft laugh almost deprived him of his senses. Her hands once again caressed his chest and at the same moment she dipped the tip of his nearly exploding shaft into her wet expecting core and retreated at the same time. She hesitated on purpose, letting him feel the tempting heat of her desire. He cried out when she suddenly pushed him inside her and he felt her drenched sheath welcome him home and embrace him. He could hear her gasp. She bent over him and untied his silk bonds and blindfold. 'I'm tired of this game,' she whimpered, 'I miss your hands.'

He seized the occasion and grabbed her sides with eager fingers while she covered his mouth with hers and started a frenzied kiss. He sensed the slight swell of her belly against his abdomen, the place where their child lived and grew; it filled him with pride and gratitude and for some strange reason with even more heath. He eagerly roamed her soft silken skin and started pounding inside her. He moved gently at first while his tongue devoured her mouth. His one hand cupped a firm swollen breast while the other focused on the sensitive spot just above her hot wet folds. His fingers rubbed her swollen pearl and she moaned in his mouth. She broke the kiss to take a gulp of air and with a sob hid her face in the crook of his shoulder. She speeded up the tempo of their lovemaking while she clasped her fingers around his shoulders.

'I love you!' she cried out in tears when her body came apart and she got hurled into the swirl of a mind numbing outburst that hit her as if all of her senses exploded. 'Maker, Fenris, I love you so much!'

He wasn't able to answer her because at the same time he got caught in an impossible overwhelming peak himself; he could only get as far as to croak her name while his body erupted with pure unmanageable bliss.

It seemed to take ages before they were able to do more than pant and hold on frantically to each other. At last she burst into a shivering laugh. She indicated a few bowls sitting on the side table next to the bed. 'I had so much more in store for you,' she giggled shakily, 'ice cubes that have been melted by now I suppose and chocolate sauce and, yes, even slices of those sour-sweet tasting apples you love so much. Drenched in caramel no less. I suppose I ran out of patience.'

If possible he pulled her even closer. 'I'm glad you did,' he murmured in her hair, 'because if not, I would have.'

She laughed again. 'I think neither of us are made for proper bondage,' she giggled, 'we make a mess of it.'

'Well,' he said, sitting up while still holding her in his arms, 'there are parts of it I like.' He reached for the apple slices and fed her a piece before putting one in his own mouth. He hummed appreciatively at the taste. 'The options of consuming not only you but also a whole range of delicious food are rather alluring. Where did you leave the whipped cream?'

They ended up with dipping strawberries and apples in cream and chocolate and feeding and painting each other with the sweet treats, making love all over again until they were utterly spent.

Fenris started with dipping her nipples in chocolate sauce and sucking the dark sugary substance off of her. 'Your breasts have grown,' he mumbled, 'and by the Maker, they're more wondrous and delicious than ever.' He traced a chocolate path down her body till he reached the most sweet entrance and covered it with the rest of the whipped cream. His finger, still drenched in chocolate, traced around her nub while his tongue plunged into her again hungry sheath. 'Cream covered with cream,' he breathed wickedly.

Albran bucked entranced in respond.

She managed just some staggered wheezes before his tongue and finger once more let her fly to ecstasy. He covered her body, in awe with the slight bump of her belly. 'You're more beautiful than ever,' he whispered before he, now on his own account, entered her and filled her with his hot desire. 'Let our child feel how much I love you and yearn for you.' She all but let him and with a soft sob threw her legs around his waist. He almost crushed her with his overwhelming want but she was more than happy to move with him and lead him, and herself, to a new devastating peak.

Finally he fell upon her, trying to catch some air. His warm breath softly stroked her skin when he finally was able to speak. 'You don't think we harmed –'

She interrupted him with a hoarse laugh, still feeling him inside her, 'No, you sweet idiot! _My_ sweet idiot!' She took a deep breath and let her fingers trawl down his perfect chiselled face. 'Our child hasn't been harmed.' He exhaled on her chest and lapped the last of the chocolate sauce off her chest. 'You of all people should know there is tribe living in Seheron that think a baby in a mother's whom is fed and kept alive only because of a combination of the blood of woman's menstruation and a man's semen.'

He stopped consuming her and looked up sharply. He moved out of her and sat up. 'How do you know that?' He sounded strained and at the same time she realised she shouldn't have uttered that morsel of knowledge. She should have known it would bring up deep feelings of guilt and remorse. Godsdammed, why did she had to bring up this. That place had been his save haven once for a few months before ... 'I'm sorry,' she whispered, 'I shouldn't have said that. I read it somewhere.' She covered her mouth with quivering fingers. 'I'm sorry,' she repeated. She had ruined it all.

He looked into the distance. He could see them again, his saviours he had for a short while considered his kin, as much as he knew about kin, as much as had been able to comprehend about kin. As he had killed them all. He clenched his jaw.

'I'm sorry,' she breathed again.

Absentmindedly he drew his fingers through her hair. 'No,' he said. That part belonged to another life. A life that was filled with humiliation, with slavery, with Danarius. And Danarius was dead. That part of his life was dead. He had a new life now. He closed his eyes and opened them to look at his new world.

And in this new world she was the most important part. Together with their unborn child which she carried. He smiled and pulled her close. 'Don't be,' he softly said, 'you have no reason to be sorry. You're the one who gave me a life. Who gave me a purpose.' After a short breath he added, 'The one who gave me worth.'

She almost broke down in tears but he wouldn't let her. He kissed her and they made love again. Slow and sweet and soft this time.

It took an hour of bathing afterwards to scrub all the sticky substances off their skin and out of their hair. Neither of them had slept more deeply and fulfilled ever before the following night.

Neither of them had slept more deeply and had ever been fulfilled that much before the following night.


	3. Chapter 3

**It's not easy to be green; especially not when you find yourself in the clutches of the ones who consider themselves experienced ... of course you can expect an outburst.**

**Enjoy!**

An Unexpected Surprise Chapter 3

Fenris was the last one to deny he had revelled in that wonderful evening of lovemaking. But a couple of weeks later he was of a totally different opinion. Albran seemed possessed and absolutely insatiable. Yes, it still was exhilarating to devour her and to be devoured by her but it became too much. Apples, strawberries, peaches, whipped cream, chocolate sauce and honey were a fantastic new addition – they had given up on the shackles and blindfolds, those led to nothing - and all that combined with her beautiful body he worshipped and not only because she carried their child, it should have been heaven. And till certain degree it was. If only she could pedal back now and again. In fact he felt totally wasted. He could hardly drag himself out of bed in the morning just after sunrise to go to the barracks and instruct the Guardsmen in those so much held in high esteem Tevinter fighting techniques. Donnic, who in his position as the new Guard Captain oversaw the training sessions, hadn't asked questions yet but the raised eyebrows every time he came running into the practice area at the last moment spoke volumes. And he had to hurry before Albran woke up and would haul him back between the sheets. He was grateful when one evening Lady Selbrech came to visit the estate to inform if things went well and to talk about a baby shower. Whatever that might be. He seized the occasion to flee the estate and go to the Hanged Man which he hadn't visited for too long. He entered Varric's suite and thankfully found the dwarf for once without company. He plopped in one of the empty chairs around the large table and Varric poured him a glass of wine.

'You look completely worn out,' he observed cautiously with that dangerous inquisitive look in his eyes. Fenris gave him a tortured look back in response. 'Does Hawke still have those bouts of hysterics?' The dwarf almost sounded empathetic but Fenris noticed clearly the hardly suppressed smirk.

'No,' the elf responded tired, 'although, sometimes she still ...' He shook his head and smiled faintly. 'But not as often as before.' After some silence he said, 'As a matter of fact she replaced them with something entirely different.' He drained his glass in one go.

Varric tilted his head. His eyes shone. 'Care to share some details? Or do you intend to make a guessing game out of it?' He pushed the bottle closer to the elf and after a few moments refilled the glass himself since Fenris seemed to miss the hint. 'You have me quite curious.'

Fenris didn't even bother with rolling his eyes. 'Is it really so hard to grasp?'

Varric stared intently at him and noticed the shadows in his face. He saw hollows that hadn't been there for as long as he could remember, not even when they had first met, and the exhausted look in the elf's eyes wasn't characteristically either. It all hinted at a severe lack of sleep. And a drain of energy. He suddenly burst out with merry laughter. The message had hit home. 'Don't tell me she's turned into some kind of succubus!' he cried out with cheerfulness.

'Why don't you shout louder,' Fenris reacted sourly, 'I don't think everyone in Kirkwall has heard you.' He paused for a heartbeat before adding, 'Although I'm certain they have heard a whole range of other sounds.' He drank deeply.

Varric wiped the tears from his cheeks. 'To be honest, I don't see the problem. Most men would envy you.'

Fenris shot him a venomous look. 'Yes. Well, _most_ men don't have to cope with a wife that wants to have _all_ of them at least five times a day. I admit I was enthusiastic at the start, if only because she stopped shouting and weeping. But now I'm mostly dog-tired. If not sapped. Don't forget I'm the one who has to get up early in the morning to train a bunch of Guards. And I am grateful when she let me go to sleep around three in the morning. That leaves me damned little time to get some rest after all the exertions. And the worst part is that _she_ seems to thrive on it.'

How hard he tried, Varric couldn't hide his broad grin. 'I weep for your predicament,' he chuckled.

'Don't use my own words against me,' Fenris bit back, remembering all too well his heated words spoken to Anders the first time he visited the Gallows with Albran, the dwarf and the mage all those years ago, a lifetime ago. He was surprised Varric remembered but then again he should know better. Varric always remembered every little detail of every occurrence, if only because he wrote them down.

'Listen to your own whinging,' the same dwarf sniggered in the meantime, 'and keep in mind the hungry looks the other males throw at Albran. Even with her swollen belly. She's more beautiful than ever.' Fenris graced him with a murderous glare. The dwarf shrugged his shoulders. 'I'm only trying to say you must enjoy it while it lasts. Between this evening and a few months both your lives will be centred around a little but extremely demanding person that will be the core of your attention and you will have no time to play the exiting game of the stallion and the mare in heat.'

Fenris's dark brows shot in his moonlike hair. 'What?!'

'A little too colourful to your taste?' Varric asked innocently while he refilled the elf's glass. Since the wine bottle was drained he poured his notorious Antivan brandy. Fenris didn't seem to notice. He drank just as greedily. 'Listen to me Fenris, you will think back at this time with regret if you don't live it to the fullest. Believe me when I tell you you will remember it with nostalgia when in the near future the moment you are making love to your wife your child raises his or her voice and she races out of your arms to see to, again, his or her needs. I'm quite certain you will get far more frustrated with your suddenly empty arms and ditto bed than with her demanding requirements of your display of manhood right now.'

Fenris kept staring at him.

'Still too colourful?'

The elf shook his head with a small crooked smile. 'No. Just wondering where you acquired that wisdom,' he said.

Varric chortled though somewhat sullenly. 'I didn't only have a brother. Back in Orzammar there were sisters too. A whole lot of them in fact and even worse, they were _elder_ sisters. Why do you think Bartrand and I fled to Topside in the first place?'

Fenris shrugged. 'I was always under the impression profit and the power of influence played an important part. And a father making the wrong bet.'

'That too of course,' the dwarf nodded concurringly, 'but the sisters were of great influence.' He reached for the brandy again but Fenris declined this time.

'I won't be able to, er, perform adequately if I drink more,' he said regretfully, 'and I don't dare to disappoint Albran. I definitively don't want to return to the scream-and-tears days.'

The moment Fenris closed the door behind his back, Varric grabbed his quill and notebook and started scribbling. If this wasn't a cure for a writer's block, nothing was.

'I have nothing to wear,' Hawke declared. She stood before her opened dresser, stark naked. Even her bare back radiated distress while she was scrutinizing the contents.

'That's a typical female complaint if I ever heard one,' Fenris grinned, ogling her appealing behind with much appreciation, 'and may I add I don't mind, as long as you stay indoors.'

'I _meant_, nothing fits me anymore,' Hawke retorted sharply, 'I've by now outgrown all the garments Orana so skilfully has extended and even my underwear have become too-smallclothes.'

Panic struck in an instant. 'So you intend to go shopping,' Fenris said flatly. Nightmarish visions of being forced to visit uncountable shops flashed before his eyes.

'Yes love, but don't worry, I won't drag you along. I think you have had more than your share of that particular suffering before our marriage.' She giggled and Fenris shivered at the awful memories of how Varric had tormented him by jerking him around Hightown and forcing him into every shop available. And always with that unbearable evil angelic smirk plastered on his face. Which he had shared with Sebastian by the way, his brother in crime back then.

Relieved he walked over to Albran and wrapped his arms around her. Lovingly he laid his flat palms on her growing belly. 'Thank you for your understanding.' He tenderly nuzzled her neck. 'You know, you smell different,' he murmured, eagerly inhaling the feminine perfume wafting from the spot behind her ear, 'it's like a whiff of honey has weaved through your natural fragrance. Wild honey.'

'Sounds sweet and dangerous at the same time,' Albran chortled.

'So, much like you.'

And then he stiffened.

There was a motion under his right hand. A tiny push. It was as fragile as the touch of the wing of a butterfly but unmistakable. He stood stock-still and hardly dared to breathe as if he was afraid an intake of air would spoil the moment. There it was again. A swift contact with his palm, light as a wisp of wind but definite and unique; the lyrium lines reacted in a pleasant tingling way. _This is your child._

Albran sensed his sudden change of demeanour and smiled inwardly. 'You felt it too?'

'Yes,' he whispered. He was in awe.

She covered his hands with hers. 'Apparently our child says hallo to Daddy.'

'You feel this all the time?' With a sudden pang he envied her. For the first time he realized she was constantly aware of the existence of their child; not only because of the growing of her body but because she could actually feel it move. Up till now he had never apprehended she was in continuous contact with that growing life inside her, let alone he himself would ever be able to sense it. His throat went thick and he had to swallow with all his might to push back the sudden lump.

'No, just when she is awake and restless.'

'She ..?' he asked hesitantly.

Albran laughed. 'People always refer to unborn babies as "he". I find that discriminating so I decided to call our baby "she".'

'You have a fair point,' he agreed. After a short silence he asked, 'Is she often awake and restless?' He tried not to sound jealous.

'Only when I don't want her to,' Albran grimaced, 'the moment I sit down to find some peace and quiet she begins to swim around. I think she likes to be cradled.'

'I'd love to cradle her,' Fenris said softly. Suddenly he couldn't wait till the moment he could hold his child in his arms, despite Varric's warning.

She squeezed his hand. 'Be patient love, you will have the chance within a couple of months. Then you can cradle her as much as you want to.'

The moment couldn't come soon enough.

Three months and counting.

Hawke has squeezed herself into the last pair of pants and the last blouse that didn't burst at the seams as she tried them on. She had had to wrap a broad shawl around her belly to hide the exposed skin between the two pieces of clothing. When she looked critically at herself in the mirror in her bedroom she thought that last touch was absolutely not too bad. She made an effort to see the effect the knot made on her back but failed despite she had almost dislocated her neck. She could just hope it didn't make her behind look like she had an enormous ass. Without much enthusiasm she had been willing to follow Orana's advice and tried on some of her mother's dresses. She didn't like dresses to start with and besides that these ones were awfully outdated. She was more than relieved to find out her mother had been slender and her dresses weren't fit for a pregnant woman. To her secret astonishment she had discovered while inspecting the contents of her mother's old closet and handling her former belongings, that it didn't hurt her any longer. With that Orana's idea had at least done her some good. She had touched her mother's old clothing and had whispered, 'I wish you could have been able to hold your grandchild in your arms. That we could have shared the joy of my pregnancy together. There're so many questions I would have liked to ask you.'

Yes, she had felt a wave of pain and loss and yes, tears had entered her eyes but she hadn't wept. She just had smiled quietly. But she had realized she'd not felt unhappy or filled with guilt any longer. It had been quite a revelation.

She got interrupted in her contemplations with a catcall and a critical growl. The two sentences 'Oh, I simply adore the way you look!' and 'Are you really going out like that?' overlapped each other in perfect sync. She twirled around and saw Isabela, Aveline and Merrill stand on the doorstep of the bedroom.

'I think you look lovely,' the Dalish elf said with a shy smile.

Hawke smiled eloquently back. 'Thank you Merrill. And yes, Aveline, I'm going to risk the wrath and grudge of the whole of Hightown by going out like this because I have run out of clothes. That's the main reason for the shopping exercise in the first place.' She looked pleadingly at Isabela. 'Could you adjust the bow of the shawl so that I don't resemble a milk cow? Without jumping me?'

The pirate queen laughed her infectious laugh. 'Don't worry sweetness, though I've never seen a pregnant woman as charming as you.' She lowered her voice. 'I've heard storied about how you ware out Fenris.'

Hawke kept a straight face. 'Did you now. I suppose Varric still keeps his imagination honed.' She straitened her shoulders. 'Well, ladies, are we prepared for a nice day out? Drinks are on me.'

When they walked out of the door she suddenly caught the tender look Aveline cast upon her. She smiled inwardly. And said, 'You don't know half how much I appreciate you're coming with us.' It had been no small feat to coax Aveline into leaving her many tasks for just one afternoon. She practically had had to beg her, pointing out she would benefit from taking a couple of hours off and telling her she missed her best friend. In the end the Viscountess had given in.

Aveline had grinned awkwardly. 'You show more cleavage than Isabela but Merrill is right. You do look lovely. Radiant in fact.' She squeezed her hand. 'And I'm looking forward to a few hours of idle leisure. It has been too long.'

Hawke had read the unspoken words in her eyes. _I would very much like to have a child also but I'm too afraid for the consequences._

She had to find a moment to talk with her in earnest.

After having visited a few shops Hawke called it a day. It had been hard and more and more frustrating to find maternity clothing that didn't make her look like an oversized whale in mourning. 'I don't have to attend a funeral,' she complained to one of the shop-assistants, who evidently felt very uncomfortable in the presence of both the Champion and the Viscountess, 'why don't these garments come in bright colours? It's not that I grieve about my pregnancy. And while we're at it, I happen to be proud of my body, I don't have to hide it under all those depressing layers of cloth,' she had added with outright disgust.

The poor trembling girl had been brushed aside by the confident proprietress. 'I'm convinced we can find something to your taste, Champion,' she had said with a professional smile, 'and if not, we can always fabricate it.' And in the end they had achieved in buying some attire that was more or less to Hawke's liking. It had been much more fun to choose and purchase some pieces of the baby outfit but when Isabela started to show signs of boredom, Albran had decided it became time for the drinks she had promised. There would be no hunt for exciting lingerie this time to distract the pirate queen.

At this very moment they were sitting in the gentle early spring sun on the patio of one of the fancy restaurants in Hightown, enjoying drinks and ridiculous expensive titbits.

'How was the baby shower?' Isabela informed while she took a sip from her rum with pineapple juice. She let out an appreciating hum. 'This is good stuff.'

'Boring,' Hawke said, 'a whole afternoon in the company of a bunch of chatterboxes who only came to snoop. Complete wasted time.' There was a stressed look in Hawke's eyes and a strained edge to her voice Isabela totally missed. On the other hand Aveline frowned in wonder.

Isabela took another sip, or rather a gulp, reasoning there was more where this came from. 'You knew that up forehand. So why did you agree?'

Hawke shrugged. 'To get on good terms with them I suppose.'

'And again, why? After what happened you don't have to pacify the nobles.'

'You'd think so, wouldn't you. But I thought the same after killing the Arishok and look how that turned out.'

'But this time it is different,' Aveline contradicted her, 'this time you fought at their side. When you saved them from the Qunari they were the powerless victims which undoubtedly stirred bad feelings. At least the pride of the likes of Edgert the Hound was deeply hurt. But now you have become brothers in arms and chased the enemy out of the city together.'

Isabela heaved her empty glass. 'For once we agree, Captain Man Hands, sorry, _Viscountess_ Man Hands. Let's drink to that. Shit. Empty. Hey, you there, waiter boy, bring me a new one. Chop-chop!' Aveline almost choked on her white wine. 'What now?' the pirate queen said innocently, 'the drinks here are expensive enough for the waiters to hurry up while serving them.'

In the meantime Merrill was admiring the things they had bought for the baby. She held up a pair of almost non-existing socks and examined them with a tender far-away look. 'They're so small,' she sighed, 'you can hardly imagine they fit any human or even elven being, how little it may be.'

'I've been told they resemble more stockings than baby socks in the beginning,' Hawke said grimly.

'And this teeny tiny shirt,' Merrill swooned without sensing the upcoming storm, 'so cute.'

'Yes. Some kind of big bag apparently.' Albran made a face as if she had bitten in a bad lemon.

Aveline chortled, 'Regarding your expression the baby shower was not only boring but annoying as well.' She didn't sense the brewing storm either and had no idea about what she – and Merrill – set in motion until it was too late. Isabela on the other hand held firm; she knew about storms. All hens on deck. Sails down and courage up.

Hawke laughed sarcastically. 'It turned out Dulci de Launcet and her cronies consider themselves indisputable authorities in the lore of infants, pregnancies and delivering.'

'You could use them as some source of information,' Aveline suggested, practical as always, 'Maker knows none of us are able to answer your questions.'

Isabela cringed. _Fault reply. _Figurative speaking she already had clasped the helm firmly with both hands. And waited with badly concealed merriment what would happen next.

'What? Them?' Albran burst out indignantly, 'the only thing they did was looking smug, telling me I knew nothing but would discover the truth soon enough. And by the sound of it, that truth will be a world full of insufferable pain and misery, filled with screams and torture. But I never was able to comprehend if those screams would be my doing or the infant's. I bloody couldn't be certain because they were very hush hush about it, whispering among each other and throwing me now and again a knowing superior and compassionate look although it seemed more like condescending –'

_Shit. She is really going all the way. Time to break in. No need to let her make a scene in the posh department of Hightown._

'Eh, sweetness,' Isabela tried to interfere. But she didn't get the chance.

'And after that they started to give me good advice about how to furnish the nursery and which colours to use and what kind of toys to buy,' Hawke went on, raising her voice, 'can you believe it?! They were telling me how to decorate my own house!'

'Sweetness,' Isabela made a new effort to silence her. People sitting at tables around them were turning their heads in amused amazement.

'And then it even got better.' Hawke was practically screaming by now. 'They thought they had the fucking right to tell me what to eat and when to sleep and how to dress! They as good as commanded me to hire a wet-nurse because breastfeeding the babe was not done by a noble woman!' Her voice caught with flaming fury. She had the breathless undivided attention of everyone present by now.

'Hawke!' Isabela hissed, still to no avail. She gripped her wrist but Hawke didn't notice or at least didn't pay attention to it.

'Those arrogant, insufferable old shrews!' she raved on, 'couple of sickening busybody bitches! Let them –'

'_Hawke_!' Isabela said firmly and loudly, 'stop it. You're going off. Take a gulp of air and a swig of your orange juice.'

Thankful for the pirate wench's meddling Aveline pushed the glass into Albran's hands. 'Get yourself together, Hawke, 'you're attracting too much attention.' She tried to drown the curious glances with one of her most stern ones, but the audience was simply too captivated to be intimidated right now.

For a moment it seemed Albran was going to explode but then she deflated. With a sigh she said, 'I did it again, didn't I. Sorry.' She bit her lip.

'That's alright Hawke,' Merrill piped up, 'we all understand I'm sure, I think.'

Hawke groaned. 'I have to go to the ladies room. To flush down my embarrassment.' She grimaced weakly. She wished Fenris were here. He always knew how to calm her down, for one reason or another. He at least always handled her ferocious outbursts with never-ending patience. She stood up and looked defiantly around the patio along the expecting faces. 'Show's over,' she growled menacing, 'you've had your fun, now go about your own business. Shove off.'

All the curious heads turned back so fast there was a serious danger of mass decapitation.

'Dear Maker,' Aveline said, when she had disappeared, 'is this what Fenris has to cope with every day? My respect for him has suddenly risen sky-high.'

'Well, there's a silver lining of course,' Isabela smirked, 'at least he gets plenty of sex.'

'Oh, was that what Varric meant when he said that after the seed is planted the flower needs lots of showering,' Merrill said with sudden insight and blushed heavily at the same moment. 'I thought he was talking about their garden,' she mumbled flushed.

This time Aveline spluttered her white wine over the whole surface of the table while Isabela had to hold on to the Viscountess's arm to prevent she'd fall from her chair with laughter.

**I don't know if any of you have gone through the smug we-know-it-all-and-we're-not-willing-to-share experience but I did and it drove me completely mad. And, believe me, you need very little to drive a pregnant woman mad. **

**Thank you for reading!**


	4. Chapter 4

**And Fenris's predicament continues ... the poor chap ...**

**Enjoy!**

A Night to remember epilogue part four

Hawke came home in a very foul mood. 'You know,' she told her child, absent-mindedly rubbing her belly, 'you have a complete and utter idiot as a mother. You should be grateful at least your father is a sensible man. That could be your salvation.' She got kicked as some kind of answer, a reaction open to all sorts of interpretations, but she couldn't even manage to break the slightest smile. She was extremely angry with herself. She didn't doubt that within no time her public outburst would be known amongst all noble households and she would be back where she started, i.e. on bad terms with the nobility. She wouldn't have cared less if it just considered her, or even Fenris. But she carried a so called half-blood which in this case was some kind of curse. The mere term, and especially the thought behind it, left her seething but it was as it was and she should do anything in her might to let their child be accepted. She had done a wonderful job today.

'Anybody home?' she called, just over the threshold. No answer. Perhaps just for the better. She was in the mood to kill someone and it was the wisest thing for anybody not to cross her path right now. After she had flung her purchases on the desk she sank down on the couch in the parlour and rested her hands on her swollen stomach. She tried to calm down. There was another kick. 'Yes,' she sighed, 'you are right. Punish me. I didn't exactly advocate your cause today. Bad, bad Mummy.' She wished she could restrain herself for once. Yes, she had been extremely vexed during and after the baby shower (she had accepted Lady Selbrech's apologies with a tense smile but was certain the woman had not understood half of her anxiety, she was a noble herself after all), but that had given her no excuse to behave as she had done today. As a total wound up jackass.

After a while she decided it would be better to work off her anger than to sit here sulking. And what better way to let evaporate the steam that still almost emerged from her ears than wielding her daggers? She hadn't done that for too long. Perhaps this was the right moment to start. She descended to the cellars to pick up the target she knew was resting idly against a wall, collecting dust. She had noticed the item while she had stumbled upon it the few times she had entered the space. Probably it was once used as an aim for marksmen's arrows (she wondered for a moment whether one of her forbearers had been an archer though right now it didn't matter) but it could as well be used for throwing knifes. She went to the garden, dragging the board with her. She removed a flower box hanging against the garden wall and replaced it with the round board. She went to the bedroom to fetch her throwing daggers and not moments later the weapons flew through the air. After all her throwing skills needed improvement and this was as best a moment as any to start with that specific training. Stupid she hadn't thought of that before. It could have saved Fenris from a lot of frustrated shouting. She imagined the faces of the know-all biddies and hit them all with grim satisfaction. Apparently she just had to picture her enemies, concentrate on her dark fury and the daggers hit home. Of course. Concentration was the key-word. Fury was a good runner-up.

And then it nearly went terribly wrong.

There sounded a soft rumour behind her back. 'Albran, are you – '

Without thinking, completely acting out of instinct – and, but that doesn't need mentioning, still enveloped in her fiery ferocity aimed against those insufferable snooty noble women – she swirled around and hurled the dagger resting between her fingers with great speed and force. It left her hand with lethal accuracy. As it turned out with _almost_ lethal accuracy.

Her eyes grew wide with horror.

Fenris stood nailed to the spot. Almost literally. A dagger was imbedded not an inch from his head, its steel blade quivering in the wood of the door leading to the kitchen. As a matter of fact the razor sharp blade had taken a few strands of his moonlike locks. He stood still as a statue, just looking at her, outwardly unperturbed. In truth his heart was racing. In the heavy moments that passed Albran's knees started to give way. Fenris took in a slow breath and said, 'You could have just told me you didn't want me around without trying to kill me.' He tried not to grimace and instead gave her a crooked smile. 'No need to throw knives at me to make your point clear.' She crumbled and he raced to her rescue.

'I'm sorry,' she wheezed desperately in his arms.

'I'm sorry,' she repeated several times over after he had placed her in one of the chairs surrounding the garden table and had provided her with a cup of tea. But tea didn't work to give her her calm back and thus he forced her to drink a dram of whisky.

'I can't, the baby,' she protested weakly.

'Shut up and drink. I'm quite certain our baby will survive this,' he said sternly. 'You need this right now.'

'I'm sorry,' she repeated once over after a small sip, 'I just about killed you.' She was about to collapse.

Fenris smiled thinly. 'I was under the impression that was one of your new hobbies of late.'

'Don't make light of it!' Albran sobbed.

'Please love, don't dwell on it. Nothing happened.' _Besides a mild heart-attack._

'I swear I won't touch a dagger again while I'm still pregnant. I'm completely irresponsible,' she said determinedly. Fenris silently agreed but stuck with just kissing her. That seemed a lot safer. In the end she let out a trembling chuckle. 'Perhaps we should let that knife stay in the door-post, to remind me of all of my silly and now even perilous actions.'

Fenris tenderly brushed her cheek. 'Yes, perhaps we should do that. I think it's a fitting memorial of this pregnancy,' he said teasingly. And he kissed her anew before she could reply.

Fenris was sitting on a bench in the training area of the Barracks after a specific difficult and messy training session. He mused the warm spring sun must be due to the lack of concentration of the men and women who normally followed his instructions without a flaw. He wiped the sweat off his brow and leant with his back against the wall. Moments later Donnic sank down next to him. He offered him a flagon of ale which he gratefully accepted.

'Spring's in the air,' the Guard Captain chuckled, 'don't take it personally. Their minds are more set on, er, shagging that fighting right now.'

The elf laughed. 'Speaking of experience?' he couldn't help ask mischievously.

Donnic blushed and grinned nervously. 'There is something I like your advice about,' he said hesitating. Fenris eyed his friend and immediately knew what this was about but thought it would be best to let Donnic come out with it. 'You know Aveline and I are talking about having children – one day.' He cleared his throat, turned crimson, tapped his fingers on his thigh and decided to not beat about the bush. 'I suppose I've always been the more enthusiastic one about the idea. But lately my enthusiasm has somewhat lessened. Please don't get angry when I say this but Hawke, well, she can become, er ...' He looked pleadingly at Fenris.

'Outright dangerous?' the elf suggested straight-faced.

'I wouldn't go that far.'

'I would,' Fenris grinned. He still could feel the dagger graze the skin of his face.

'I never knew pregnant women could become like that. To be honest, it scares me to death. How do you handle it?'

Fenris stretched his long legs and crossed his ankles. 'Frankly, I don't know.' He tipped the flagon and took another sip. 'Sometimes I think it's mostly Orana who keeps Albran in check,' he confessed. He smiled apologetically.

'I highly doubt that,' Donnic muttered, 'you give yourself too little credit.'

'You shouldn't forget Albran has a much more, how shall I put it, inflammable character than Aveline. I don't think you have to worry about your wife getting as explosive as mine.'

The Guard Captain raised his eyebrow. 'Don't be too sure about that. You weren't present when she stood shouting at Sebastian and gave Elthina a good piece of her mind. I fear she might even get worse.'

Fenris sat up. 'You know, I keep saying to myself it's just a couple of months. And since the reward is a child, an offspring of me and Albran, it's worth all the bad moods and outbursts. You just have to live through it, stand strong. It will end and in that end you will hold your child in your arms.'

Donnic nodded pensively in agreement. 'I think that's fair enough.' He smiled faintly. 'So the only thing left to do is to convince Aveline there'll never be a perfect time in a city like Kirkwall to start a family and this is as perfect as it gets.'

'Good luck with that.'

Still smiling Fenris stepped into the bedroom. The smile was swept off his face the very instant. His breath hitched forcefully and he almost got a seizure. 'What do you think you're doing!' he yelled, immediately regretting his outburst in case he startled Albran and she would fall all the way down.

Albran stood balancing on the top of a stepladder. A very rickety stepladder in his eyes. 'What does it look like?' she replied calmly, 'I'm painting the bedroom.' She waved a paintbrush in his direction, spluttering drops around. A good thing she had covered the carpet and furniture with old rugs and rags.

'Are you mad?! Come down this instant!'

'No! Why should I? I'm doing brilliantly. Don't you like the new colour?'

The colour was the least of his concerns right now. With dread he saw her stretch and balance on one foot to reach a spot in the corner and in his running wild imagination he already pictured her lying crumpled on the floor. 'Please, Albran,' he begged desperately, 'that thing doesn't look that solid. What if it crashes?' He rushed over and caught her carefully but tightly around her expanded waist when she, to his immense relief, started to descent. 'I don't see why the bedroom has to be painted anyway. It has only recently been restored!'

'In a far too hasty and shabby way. And that was months ago by the way. Look around! I'm not going to get our child in this slum!'

He stared flabbergasted at her. _Slum_? This was by far the most luxurious room he had ever spent a night in. He didn't disagree with the new warm dark red paint as such, he just didn't see the point. And he definitively had big problems with her wobbling on an unstable stepladder. On the other hand, if it made her happy to change the bedroom, he would comply without much protest. No need to start a row over it; before you knew it, he'd have a dagger stuck in his skull. 'Alright, how about this: I use the ladder and you paint the parts of the walls you can reach without the risk of breaking your neck or getting our child into danger.'

'Aren't you just the sweetest,' she beamed and touched the tip of his nose with the brush. He was too thankful she took it so relaxed to protest against her playful gesture.

A few hours later a simple dot on his nose didn't matter anyhow; by that time it wasn't just his nose that was smeared and splattered with paint; as a matter of fact he could use himself as a brush by then. He seriously and with growing admiration wondered how the workmen they had hired to repair the estate had managed to get only the incidental drop on their clothes. And worked much faster besides that. They were taking a break in the kitchen when Anders visited. The mage stared incredulously at the elf, trying not laugh out loud. 'And here I was, convinced your hair was white and you were fine with that. It seems I've been wrong all the time. Why have you decided to dye it? To scare the demons away? And what is that on your face? War paint? Is it so hard to keep the Guardsmen under your thumb?'

Chortling under her breath Hawke waved at the First Enchanter to pick a seat and sit down and she poured him a cup of tea.

'Someone has got it into her head our bedroom needs a make-over,' Fenris growled with a dirty look at Albran, 'and my qualities may be many, apparently painting is not one of them,' he added sarcastically. 'It doesn't help I have never held a paintbrush in my hands before this day in my entire life.'

'I think you look adorable,' Hawke put in a word with a sweet smile. She pushed a plate with chocolate-cookies in Anders' direction.

'That's not exactly what a warrior wants to hear,' Fenris reacted darkly.

'Ah,' Anders snickered, 'I sense a case of nesting instinct.'

The elf squinted at him. 'Is this something similar to mood swings? Because if so I feel a sudden urge to hide in the cellar for the time being.' He gave his wife a lopsided pained grimace. 'No offence meant.'

She shot him a bright smile back. 'None taken, my love. But since you're so, er, bravely fighting the walls with brush and vigour, perhaps you can also deal with the nursery. And while we're at it, the ancestral crib is in desperate need of a new layer of paint. I guess you'll get the hang of it along the way. I have all the confidence in your ability to learn fast.'

Before he could answer, and it would have been a rather snarky answer, Orana entered the kitchen. 'I see we have a visitor,' she said jovially, 'good afternoon Anders, I hope you're well? I just returned from the market, Albran, and I brought the new cloth for the canopy of your bed. They finally ordered the right fabric and ...' She stopped in mid-sentence and stared at Fenris. She tried to stifle a laugh but failed gloriously and within no time she had to hold on to the door-post.

'Yes, yes,' Fenris grumbled tetchily, 'I know, I look like some sort of clown with bad make-up. Now, if you'll excuse me, those walls won't paint themselves.' He stood abruptly and swept out of the kitchen with long irritated strides. 'Women,' they heard him grouse, 'women and mages. Ugh.'

'I'm sorry,' Orana guffawed, wiping the tears out of her eyes, 'I didn't mean to offend him but he looked absolutely adorable.'

Hawke nodded in agreement. 'That's what I told him but I believe he didn't take it as a compliment. But don't worry, he'll get by.'

'I'll bake an apple-pie to make it up to him,' Orana promised, still laughing.

But of course new paint wasn't the end to it. Within no time he got enveloped in a kind of whirlwind of chambers pulled upside down because they had to be scrubbed clean and redecorated. He endured what he considered a punishment without much protest although within a week he got nauseas by the smell of paint and soft soap and new curtains. Every time he came home from work and tried to find some peace and quiet he encountered chaos. Even Sandal was infected by all the activities and danced happily around with rags, brooms and buckets. The only ally he had was Rascal whom he found regularly in the garden, trying to hide behind a bush with a bewildered expression on his snout. 'I know how you feel,' he told the sad dog on a particularly nice day that got wasted away with indoor activities that in his, and the dog's, view were totally unnecessary, 'but try to keep in mind this nonsense will end.' Rascal huffed miserably and crawled from behind his bush and laid his head on his knee. He looked up with unfathomable gloomy eyes. Fenris scratched the hound behind his ears. 'Just let it come over you and try to take as less notion as you can,' he advised him.

He put his foot down though when he found Albran one afternoon in the wine-cellar, dusting bottles.

'Have you gone completely out of your mind?'

'Look at all the filth down here!' she countered, 'something must be done about it!'

'Yes,' he scoffed, 'I imagine you giving birth in here or hordes of maternity visitors and baby admirers going down to inspect the state of the cellars. Stop this madness instantly. I understand you want the house spic and span but this goes too far.' It turned out to be no small feat to convince her of the idiocy of this particular action and to persuade her to share a peaceful time in the pleasant spring sun.

_One month, just one more month._ And he feared what that small amount of weeks had in store.

It was a lovely day in early summer and Fenris had been working in the garden the whole of his free morning because undoubtedly that would be Albran's next project. That is, she had hinted at it in that not at all subtle way that left no room for mistakes. She herself had gone off with Orana to buy the last of the layette. After a whole morning of labouring he went into the kitchen to clean his hands and wash away the dust in his throat with a glass of water. He was emptying the glass standing at the sink, contemplating if she would be satisfied with what he had done, when something started to clamber up his leg. Something with little but needle-sharp claws. He almost dropped the vessel in surprise and looked alarmed down. 'What the –' He reached down and plucked the intruder from his trousers which earned him a few nasty scratches on his leg and a loud high-pitched protest. 'Ouch! You little devil!' At the same time he heard cheerful chattering voices coming from the parlour. Apparently Albran and Orana had already returned home without him noticing. Good. He strode into the room. 'Care to explain?' he informed gruffly while holding the little black-and-white striped kitten up at the scruff.

'Oow,' Hawke crooned, 'you found them. Aren't they cute?'

'_They_?! What do you mean _they_? How many are there?!'

'Four,' Hawke beamed happily.

'We found the litter of kittens when we returned from the market,' Orana clarified hastily, noticing the murderous look in his eyes and hoping to prevent a serious matrimonial argument, 'it was obvious the mother abandoned them or more probably was killed. They were mewing most pitiable.' She more or less pleaded with him but for once he didn't fall for it.

'And so you just brought them with you.' There sounded a brewing storm in Fenris's voice.

'Was I supposed, especially as an expectant mother, to leave the little fluffy balls on their own to die?' Albran challenging stuck out her chin. 'They are four or at the very most just five weeks old. They can't survive on their own.'

'So you intend to haul every stray you stumble upon into our house? What's next? A maltreated donkey in the garden? A flock of hungry seagulls in the attic? A nest of poor lost dragonlings in the cellar?' He was getting more and more agitated. 'Why don't we just open an animal home? Or, better even, an orphanage?!'

'We won't keep them all,' Hawke pouted.

'Oh good, such a relief.' He very hard tried not to snap completely which was quite challenging after all the nerve-racking turbulence he had gone through during the past weeks.

'I'm certain Anders will like to have one,' Albran ticked off the likely candidates in the meantime, 'Aveline won't have objections against a Keep's mouser, I'm sure, and otherwise I'll convince Donnic and I think Merrill can use a companion.' She cocked her head. 'I'd like to keep the one you're so lovingly holding ourselves. She appears to be the most bold and enterprising of the bunch. I like that. Apparently she found the kitchen out of herself, driven by curiosity I suppose. And I think she's already fond of you. Maker know why, bearing in mind the way you're treating the poor thing.'

Fenris stared at the kitten that helplessly dangled in his hand and his expression softened. He let out a deep sigh. 'Have you considered you just brought home four delicious bites for Rascal?'

'I don't think so,' Hawke grinned and pointed at the marbari Fenris hitherto had overlooked. The dog lay on his back in a corner of the room with all four deadly paws in the air and the other three kittens of the litter sleeping on his belly. The elf could swear he wore a heavenly smirk of contentment.

'You traitor,' he mumbled and he walked over to him to drop the black-and-white nuisance among the others. He immediately stirred up havoc. The three little cats woke up and immediately started a row among each other which involved a lot of biting in floppy ears and hardly existing tails, rolling over and clawing in Rascal's skin. The dog opened one eye and gave Fenris a look that said, 'Really?' and after that let out a soft growl that within no time brought the small rebels back to order. Not seconds later the whole bunch was fast asleep once more.

'Aah,' Hawke and Orana sighed simultaneously in captured devotion.

'Traitor,' Fenris repeated and at the same time shook his head. He couldn't suppress a little smile. It was impossible not to adore the scene. He pinched the bridge of his nose. 'Alright, we will keep that little black and white – 'he came no further because Albran almost crushed him in a suffocating embrace.

'I knew you would love her!'

And so Miss Ivy entered their lives.

**I once had a tomcat that took care of a litter of small kittens abandoned by their mother. I had to bottle-feed them, but he licked them clean afterwards and kept them warm and all that with much dedication and tenderness. And I had a dog that liked my two cats very much and vice-versa. They always slept in the same basket. I've put those two lovely memories together, hope you liked it.**


	5. Chapter 5

An Unexpected Surprise Chapter 5

'Miss Ivy? Why for Andraste's sake did you give her that name?!' Anders asked with a bemused frown.

'Because she likes to climb,' Hawke explained, 'like a true mountaineer in fact: up the stairs, which is no small feat for such short wobbly legs, into the curtains and most of all into Fenris.'

Anders sniggered. 'I bet he loves it.'

'Well, in the beginning he shouted at her to stop that nonsense but that encouraged her even more. You know how cats are. And very soon he learned that pulling her off his legs only led to tears in his pants and bloody scratches on his skin. She's very persistent. So now he just lets her. He calls her "a plucky piece of poison". Another reason for the name.' She chuckled mischievously. 'And he calls her by other names as well. I don't understand them because he speaks Tevene to her but they sound too gentle to be terms of abuse and besides that I've learned to recognize all of the nasty expressions over the years. They were meant for me personal on several occasions.' She winked conspiratorially. 'The other day I caught our fierce warrior standing at the counter over there talking to Miss Ivy that balanced on his shoulder while she was trying to deafen him by purring with the force of a bronto in his ear. He was making a sandwich for himself and fed her small pieces of ham. It was so cute.'

Anders laughed out loud. 'He must have been overjoyed when you found out.'

She lifted one eyebrow. 'I may have been acting like quite an idiot during the past months but I'm not that big an idiot. I withdrew before he could see me.'

An hour earlier this very morning Anders had dropped by to check on her. 'You are a perfect example of a pregnancy going by the book,' he had ascertained with appreciation, 'you're sure you don't have any complaints whatsoever?'

'Besides a lower back pain and some minor troubles like heartburn and the occasional cramp in my calves, no. And Fenris takes care of my back in the evenings. He truly has magic fingers. And of course I have to pee at least twenty times an hour but I suppose that's normal with a belly the size of a prize-winning pumpkin.'

'As a matter of fact, you're not that huge,' the healer had stated, 'your navel hasn't even popped out. You have a very elegant charming round belly, if I may say so. I wouldn't compare it to a pumpkin. More to a, how shall I put it, enlarged apricot.'

'Does that mean the child isn't that big?' Albran had asked hesitantly. 'Thanks for the compliment by the way. You really know how to flatter a girl, especially when she doesn't feel that attractive at all anymore.'

'Don't mention it,' Anders had beamed, 'but I can't imagine Fenris isn't doing a better job in the compliment department.'

'Yes he does, but I can hardly count him impartial. And you haven't answered my question.'

'Hard to tell, really,' Anders had shrugged, 'it might as well be you have not a large amount of waters.' He had added playfully, 'Nevertheless I don't think you have to push out a giant. And you better be grateful for it.'

After the examination they had gone to the kitchen. Hawke had provided Anders with a mug and a pitcher of ale and herself with a plate with the lemon cupcakes she loved. They were sitting at the table; the litter of little kittens were gathered around a saucer with milk, trying to lap up as much of the white liquid as fast as possible. Rascal sat next to them, supervising the scene with a stern eye. 'So which of the scoundrels would you like for yourself? I know there is no tabby among them but if your mind's set on a tomcat, you can pick the grey one with the black dots. You could call him Ser-Munch-a-Lot; he's something like a wolverine when it comes to gobbling up his food. He will eat you out of house and home within no time.'

Anders laughed again; he did that a lot since Justice had taken his leave, Hawke had noticed. She liked it. 'A good thing then that I'm not as poor as I was, otherwise I might not be able to afford him.'

She cocked her head and asked pensively, 'Don't you miss it sometimes? Those days?'

Anders took the pitcher sitting in the middle of the table and poured himself another mug of ale. 'What? The "Good Ole Days" of Justice nagging and yammering in my head, never giving me a moment's rest, always reminding me of the urgent needs of the pursued and imprisoned mages? O yes, I miss that tremendously.' He made a sad face and sighed dramatically. 'Now I have to go and find an actual person to yell at and quarrel with. It's not the same. They never give the correct reaction.' Albran stared at him. This time the mage roared with laughter. 'Just kidding you, Hawke. Although I have to confess I miss beating the Templars around the bush. On the other hand it's fantastic fun to wind up Cullen. He falls for every idiotic idea I propose; no matter how often I do it, he keeps thinking I'm serious. It has become a kind of challenge to come up with something even more outrageous. Perhaps next I will suggest to forgo the harrowing. I ought to frame his baffled expressions, they're priceless. Much like you look now.' He chortled roguishly in his ale. Hawke shook her head and mused, not for the first time, what an ordeal Anders had gone through with that blasted spirit droning in his head all the time. He had changed so much since the absence of Justice. It suddenly got through to her she hadn't thought of that stormy fateful night in early autumn for ages – or, yes, now and again she did but she didn't associate it with this new First Enchanter anymore. That had been a completely different Anders. A stranger. She considered it wisest not to comment and just took another bite from her lemon cupcake.

'I must admit however I regularly miss the peace and quiet,' Anders went on.

'Peace and quiet?' Albran coughed incredulously, spreading sugary crumbs around, 'you were over your head in injured and sick people back then!'

'That hasn't changed much. And now I also have to rule a whole Tower and bicker with Templars. I would give anything to go on a simple mission like we used to do.'

'Yeah,' Hawke smirked, '"The Good Ole Days" of whopping culprits and giving the gangs of Kirkwall a what for. I miss them too ever so often. But then again,' she tapped her midsection, 'I have a very legitimate reason to let them behind. For the moment. I'm not as agile as I used to be and to threaten a bunch of cutthroats with a pregnant belly doesn't seem such a good idea.'

'I don't know about that. I bet they would be more than surprised. You could astonish them to death.'

Hawke choked on her swill of juice. 'I almost would like to try, just for the effect. But I'm afraid Fenris won't let me and I think he might be right.'

'So,' Anders inquired, wiping his mouth after another quaff, 'when can I take the little bugger home?'

Albran shrugged. 'Today, if you want to. It's not like you're ripping him away from his mother. You can give him the same treatment he's getting here.'

The kittens had finished their puddle of milk and the newly dubbed Ser Munch-a-Lot lashed out at his nearest sister, probably out of frustration the food had gone.

'He is rather feisty, isn't he?' Anders observed.

'He tries to boss his sisters around but they aren't very impressed,' Hawke giggled, 'sometimes they pretend to be but that's only because they know Rascal will call him back to order.' Anders raised his brow unbelievingly. 'It's true, I swear. And they laugh at him behind his back, the poor sod. And of course Miss Ivy has Fenris to run to, that is if he's around. Munch thinks twice to harass her if he is.'

'Sounds to me it's high time to move him to an environment where he can be the king,' Anders grinned, 'and before he gets used to be called Munch. You seem to be an expert on making up ridiculous names. At least for animals.'

But of course the name stuck.

'Oh bloody hell! Can't you stop bothering me and let me sleep for just one night!'

With a jolt Fenris flew up. 'What? What did I do?' he asked bewildered and more or less out of habit, his voice thick with sleep. It was as good as a Pavlov reaction; she yelled, he reacted guilty even though he didn't know why and she moreover had made it clear most of her trepidations weren't due to him. Or better none of them. He grumpily drew himself out of his well earned sleep to see she was nearly to tears. 'I'm sorry,' she managed. He crumpled at once.

They were lying under clean but by now rather trampled sheets and blankets with a brand-new canopy above their heads. Even now the room vaguely smelled of paint and new cloth. He still wrinkled his nose, if only because of the memory of those hectic days happening not long ago. The only light came from a small oil lamp standing on the desk facing the window. Since Albran had to relieve herself at least twice or three times a night because of the nowadays constant pressure on her bladder, a string of lights winded their way from the bedroom, along the stairwell to the bathroom next to the kitchen so she didn't have to find her goal in the dark. She stubbornly refused to use a chamber pot.

'I'm sorry,' Albran repeated meekly, 'I didn't mean to wake you up, but she's pestering me like mad. The moment I lay down she starts to kick and punch me around. It's driving me crazy. I absolutely can't get any sleep.'

Fenris breathed more freely. 'No need to apologize, love. She's my child as well as yours; you don't have to be only one lying awake.'

'But you have to get up early ...'

Fenris just looked at her with a slightly raised brow and a faint lopsided smile and she blushed profusely. 'Alright, yes, there were many times I didn't take that into consideration.'

'You won't hear me complain about the reason why. Now let us try to calm her down, shall we?' He placed his hands gently on her stomach and immediately felt all the commotion going on inside her body. 'She _is_ rather agitated at the moment. It looks like she's having one hell of a party.'

'It _feels_ like she's putting up one hell of a fight,' Hawke groused. 'She always goes like that the moment I try to take my rest. I told you before she likes to be cradled.' She smirked cheekily. 'And I'm afraid you can't pacify her with pieces of ham.'

Fenris's brows shot into his hair and he changed colour. 'How do you ...' He groaned. 'I should have known you spotted that.'

Hawke couldn't hide the twinkle in her eyes. 'It was most endearing. And now you can't any longer put up the pretence you're against Miss Ivy staying with us. Admit it, you're fond of her.

'Alright, I plead guilty. She is spirited, much like you. And it would devastate Rascal if she would leave the house, she's his favourite.'

'Ah, so you've noticed that also. Ouch!' she suddenly cried out. 'You little ... damn it; I think this time she seriously bruised a rib!'

'Right. Time to take measures.' With a swift and deftly manoeuvre Fenris caught a little foot making a bulge in Albran's tight skin. He bowed over his wife and tenderly grazed her lower stomach with his lips.

'Take care,' Albran said sourly, 'she has a mean uppercut. Before you know it she leaves you with a black eye. A true rogue already and no mistake.'

Fenris chuckled softly while he said, 'Listen, little one, this is your father speaking. I think it is wise to let you mother sleep, don't you agree? She is the one who has to put you onto this world and she needs a whole lot of energy to do so. Grant her some peace, as much for her benefit as yours.' He let go of the tiny foot. 'That's my girl.'

To her amazement Albran felt the baby immediately calm down and stop flailing her little but ferocious limbs around. 'Wow!' she exhaled with admiration, 'she responds to the sound of your voice and she isn't even born yet. I wished I'd known about this magic far sooner.'

'There are still a couple of weeks left. That's a lot of nights,' Fenris replied, with a bad attempt at trying to conceal his pride, 'you will have the chance of enjoying your nightly rest as yet.'

Hawke had installed herself in the garden under a cream coloured awning that supplied half of the patio with cool shadow on this hot summer's day. She lounged in a comfortable chair with a few pillows propped up against her sore back and with her bare feet resting on a low stool. She had a jug of home-made ice tea close at hand and a book in her lap. Around her the garden was in full bloom; insects were busily buzzing and various colourful butterflies meandered from flower to flower. Rascal had taken refuge against the sun behind his chosen shrub and Miss Ivy held him company, that is to say, she was fast asleep with her little head lying on one of his paws. Now and again her whiskers quivered when the movement of a fly or a slowly whirling petal touched her sensitive ears but she was too lazy to wake up and do something about it. Albran only realized she had dozed off herself when Bodahn announced a visitor. With a jerk she awoke to see Sebastian entering the terrace.

'Forgive me,' the former prince said with a little bow, 'I didn't mean to intrude.'

'No, no, it's all right,' Hawke replied, stifling a yawn, 'please, sit down, enough chairs to pick out. Bodahn, would you be so kind as to bring a glass and a bottle of cooled white wine? I believe we have an excellent Antivan vintage in the cellar.'

'You are well informed on your stock, even though you don't drink it yourself at the moment, I presume,' Sebastian smiled while he sat down.

'I should be, I've dusted the bottles not long ago,' Hawke smirked, 'to Fenris's dismay I might add. So tell me, to what do I owe this honour?'

'I came to inquire after your health,' Sebastian replied gallantly. Bodahn popped up with the asked items and disappeared again into the house.

Hawke gave Sebastian a wan smile. 'Do you want the truth or the brushed up version? I suppose,' she gave the answer for him before he could utter a word, 'since you are a follower of Andraste you would prefer the truth.' The smile became a bit impish. Sebastian might have been a womanizer once, she was pretty sure he had had nothing to do with pregnancies, not even with the ones he had undoubtedly caused, she suspected. 'To be honest, I'm getting fed up with being pregnant. It was fun for a time, I mean, the times between the bouts of hysterics obviously,' she grimaced, 'which were no fun at all, at least not for Fenris. But now I feel mostly languid and heavy and cooped up.'

Sebastian reached for his glass of wine. He was noticeable not at ease. 'But certainly you can go out if you want to? You're not bedridden.'

'Sure. As long as I stick to places with a handy and preferable clean bathroom nearby. And let me tell you, there're not many such locations in Kirkwall as you might think.'

'Ah, yes, of course. I can see that would be, er, inconvenient.' Sebastian tried to hide his embarrassment behind his glass. 'By the way, her Grace sends her regards.' He waltzed the wine around.

'Thank you, that's nice of her.' Hawke fidgeted in her chair to relieve the pressure in her back. She made a show of rearranging and poking the pillows, or rather giving them a few good wallops and sinking back in them with a sigh of contentment. She shot the Chantry brother a radiant smile. 'And there are all the other physical discomforts. I could tell you stories and draw you pictures,' she said, with hidden wicked glee studying his ever more becoming tight expression. 'But that's not the only reason you're here.' It wasn't a question. She took him by surprise and she knew it. It was such fun to tease him. Anders had Cullen, now _she_ had Sebastian.

'How do you figure?' he asked startled.

'You're fiddling with your glass, you're drawing circles with your finger on the tabletop and you're getting redder by the second. And not just because you're scared to death I'm going to overwhelm you with all the tortures a pregnant woman has to bear. Whatever it is you have to say, come out with it for the Maker's sake!'

Sebastian cleared his throat, sat straight and shot her a look lingering between admiration, annoyance, horror and naked fear. 'I, er, we, that is to say, Elthina and I were wondering ... if you were considering – do you have a name already?'

'I should certainly think so,' Hawke replied unperturbed. She would make him sweat as much as possible. 'Luckily my parents have provided me with one when I was born. I'm called Hawke. Albran Hawke unless you've forgotten ..?'

Sebastian rolled his eyes. 'Please Hawke –'

'Ah, so you _did_ remember.' She burst out laughing when she caught his tense, near to exploding expression and at the same time became serious again. 'I know what this is all about. You're here to inform if I'm willing to hold the name-giving ceremony in the Chantry and the answer is no,' she said bluntly.

He stared at her for a few strained moments. 'Why not?'

Albran inhaled deeply. _Don't shout at him. He doesn't deserve that. He means well._ 'I'll try to explain and, please, for once do try to see someone's point of view without the mingling of your omnipresent Andraste. For once, don't be one-sided.'

Sebastian nodded at her. 'I promise. Go ahead.'

She folded her hands around her belly and felt her child move. 'Both my father and sister were mages, apostates. Your Chantry has done nothing but condemn them and chase them like vermin and make their lives as difficult as possible. Despite the fact they were wonderful persons with a good and generous heart and would rather die than harm anyone, they were labelled by your kind of people as extremely dangerous, no better than rabid beasts. Do you really think that I would carry my child into a so-called holy house of your faith, a house of your institution that believes that my kin, the father and sister I cherished and loved dearly could have fallen for demons and turned into abominations on a whim? That they ought to be locked up because they could be as trusted as a dog with rabies? That they should be isolated from society as if they were infected with a deadly decease? Well, _I_ don't think so.'

The teasing was over, she had all but spoiled it. She felt tears pricking behind her eyes and bowed her head. She clenched her fists and cursed herself. Again she had driven herself over the edge though this time not by an unreasonable outburst. For some reason it only made it worse. She really was too sensitive at the moment. The baby moved some more and she knew for sure within now and a few seconds she would burst out in violent kicking. She always sensed her mood.

A heavy silence fell. The only sound came from the still buzzing insects and the muffled voices from the street beyond the walls surrounding the garden.

Finally Sebastian said with a quiet voice, 'You humble me, Albran.' She looked up at the mention of her first name and saw his face. He looked pained. 'You are right, I have been one-sided. I never wanted to see your sight of the story. To see the sight of so many stories like yours.' After a short silence he added, 'So perhaps it is only a bliss Anders is now the First Enchanter. He has refreshing ideas. He changes things. In a good way.'

The way he uttered those words made her suspect he hadn't been all too happy with Anders's appointment to start with. The thought _"I can just hope Cullen hasn't passed all of Anders's silly pranks he has bought for real on to the Grand Cleric" _briefly crossed her mind.

She sniffed. 'Perhaps I should have taken the time to make it more clear to you.'

Sebastian shook his head. 'No, I should have thought of it myself.' He smiled faintly. 'I'm afraid my education has stood in my way; as a prince I was virtually taught I was always right.' He gave out a soft chuckle. 'And that wasn't even the reason I came here.'

Hawke frowned. 'You were not?'

'For a part I was. I admit I came to persuade you to have the name-giving in the Chantry but not for the obvious reason. I, er, I heard rumours.' He coughed delicately and Hawke groaned.

'Let me guess, my rant about the old know-all biddies has made the round through all the noble houses of Hightown and they hate me even more than ever.'

Sebastian couldn't prevent a hearty laugh. 'Something like that. Although I understand their husbands loved it.' He became serious again. 'Listen Hawke, I may be one-sided and tend to see things mostly my way, but I grasp at least you must be worried about your child, I mean yours and Fenris's child.'

'You mean a half-bred,' Hawke snapped venomously.

'Indeed.' Unspoken suggestions hovered in the air.

She looked at him, saw his honest open look, thought a few hard and intricate thoughts for a moment and then comprehension dawned. 'You're trying to make clear giving a grand ceremony in the Chantry will help accepting our child. To let her be treated like a normal person. Because everyone knows elves, let alone _half-breeds'_ (she spat the word with much hatred and revulsion) 'are treated even worse than apostates. Sometimes even worse than abominations. But when the Grand Cleric blesses such a child, there is nothing anyone can put forward to reject her.' Her eyes wandered with a glassy look in the distance for a moment. 'That would be the perfect solution,' she whispered.

Sebastian just lifted a corner of his mouth in a half smirk. 'I made the round. All the "old know-all biddies" as you call them so strikingly, became giddy at the idea of being seen in the company of all the other old know-all biddies. In their best finery. And they were stumbling over their words to admit they were more than happy to recognize the offspring of the Champion and her most beloved and respected elven husband as a new most promising member of society.'

His words hit home with the force of a battering ram, in this case a battering ram adorned with roses and lilacs and lavender and in a haze of tears Hawke jumped up, tripped over the low stool and got just in time caught by Sebastian before she fell. 'Thank you,' she sobbed.

He gently held her in his arms. 'No need to thank me.'

'You just solved my darkest fear. How can I not thank you?!'

He felt her baby kick through her thin dress and decided this became too intimate. He kindly lowered her down on her chair. 'You're more than welcome. You taught me a valuable lesson today.'

'What lesson,' she asked, still dazed.

'Never judge too soon,' he smiled.

**Bigotry is such an ugly thing, as is prejudice; I hope you all agree.**

**Up to the grand finale!**


	6. Chapter 6

**And here we are, the last chapter. It's a long one but I didn't want to cut it into two parts. So I hope you can bring up the patience to read it. It doesn't have to be in one go, mind you.**

**Enjoy!**

An Unexpected Surprise Chapter 6

Cullen stormed into Anders's office. 'This time you've really gone too far!' he shouted infuriated. He was wildly waving a piece of parchment around and pushed it under the First Enchanter's nose. 'What the heck were you thinking?!'

Anders just raised his brow. 'You're free to swear, you know. I won't faint from words like "hell" and "fuck". Don't restrain yourself. Just let it all out.'

Cullen thumped the desk with vicious force. 'Will you stop for just one moment to make fun of everything? This is a serious matter! You hold an important position and with it comes great responsibility! What, do you think would have been the consequences if anyone besides me would have read this ... this... outrageous note!'

'Fucking note?' Anders suggested innocently. But he backed down when he saw Cullen's face. The Knight Captain was about to combust.

Without the warning of a knock the door got opened, or rather bashed in. 'First Enchanter?' an urgent voice sounded and a young Templar appeared in the door opening.

Cullen turned around with the speed of a viper. 'Not now!' he spat exasperated. 'Go away.'

'But –' the Templar tried desperately.

'Get out!' the Knight Commander all but screamed. He was about to draw his sword and the young man scrambled terrified out of his way. About an hour later Cullen would find out what he had caused with chasing the messenger away. Right now he swirled back to Anders. 'I know you do this to harass me and to see how far you can push me, well, let me tell you, _this time_ you have pushed me over the edge. I'm about to relieve you of your function. In some way you're worse than Meredith ever was.'

Anders had launched his latest prank that had come up in his mind while visiting Albran Hawke: the suggestion of abandoning the Harrowing, the ultimate test mages had to undergo to prove they were strong enough to resist the temptations of whatever demons would come up with to lure them in. He had considered it another humorous stunt to tease the Knight Commander; of course he knew the test was necessary if only to apprehend the mages who were too weak before they could do irreparable damage. At least he had succeeded in banishing the atrocity of the rite of Tranquillity. The ones who hadn't passed the test were housed in an isolated department of the Tower and were watched closely by Templars who were thoroughly trained for this special task. In this case, for those specific mages, the Tower indeed was a prison but at least they were allowed to keep their wit and conscience instead of being turned into walking automatons. It had been a great victory.

But looking at the Knight Commander's fuming expression Anders realized he now had overstepped the boundaries. Cullen was right; if anyone besides them two had seen the note, it could have had a dire outcome. He deflated. 'Forgive me,' he said humbly, 'please sit down.'

Cullen still glared daggers at him but nevertheless took in a deep breath to regain his self-control and lowered himself on the chair opposite the desk. 'I'm getting the impression you're not taking the position of First Enchanter seriously,' he hissed between clenched teeth.

Anders made a pacifying gesture with one hand while he with the other uncorked a bottle of rare Orlesian cognac. 'On the contrary my friend,' he said soothingly, 'although I admit I like a good joke now and again. And keep in mind I'm still mostly used to be hunted by Templars than working together with them.' He offered Cullen a glass which the latter grudgingly accepted.

'Alright. I'm willing to turn a blind eye – once again. But it will be for the last time. For the Maker's sake, man, bear in mind the power you wield nowadays. Stop misusing it.'

Anders bit his lip; he appreciated the truth of Cullen's words. He indeed ought to stop this childish behaviour. But then again, it _had_ been until recently he had had to fear the Templars like hell. It was still as good as incomprehensible he was now on equal terms with his former enemies. And besides that the sudden absence of Justice still sometimes made him float. There was so much space in his head to fill. He just had to stop filling it with silly ideas.

Another knock came. Or rather another bash. This time it was Keran. 'First Enchanter?'

'Make yourself scarce,' Anders cried out irritated, 'I'm occupied.'

But Keran stood his ground. 'First Enchanter, Ser, it's the Champion. She's gone into labour.'

'Are you sure you're fine with this, Messere?' Bodahn sounded concerned.

'Of course I am. I can take care of myself for a few hours, don't worry. And the baby is not due until another week. Now go and have fun.'

It was the day of the Kirkwall Summer Festival and Hawke knew Orana would very much like to take part in the festivities although the elven girl had said nothing about it. At least not to her. She had overheard a little conversation between her and Bodahn. About how much the small elf had liked to visit Lowtown on this day; she however had stated she didn't want to leave Albran alone. And thus, ridden with guilt mixed with some annoyance, Albran had more or less ordered her to go. She had been more than happy to see how the girl had flourished over the past years, even so much she didn't hesitate nowadays to boss the mistress of the house around. She had earned this day off and after all the stressful months so had Bodahn and Sandal.

The festival was held in Lowtown, that is for the so called common folk. The nobility seized the day for their annual High Society Picnic in a lustrous meadow just outside the walls of Hightown. Hawke had received an invitation but of course wasn't able to go. She had declined politely. If her advanced pregnancy couldn't be a legitimate reason to leave the fabled and notorious picnic for what is was, nothing would be. In that case even the diplomacy of a former Prince wouldn't be of use.

'I have prepared a bath and there's a can with fresh ice tea in the pantry,' Orana said, lingering on the doorstep, still hesitating.

'Thank you, you're priceless. Now go!' Hawke urged her on. Just being alone for a couple of hours without anybody fussing about her was a very welcome prospect.

While she ambled to the bathroom, she suddenly felt an extremely brutal stab of pain in her lower back. For a moment she couldn't breathe and had to hold on to the wall. She exhaled slowly while the pain subsided. 'Bloody hell,' she cursed, 'my back is getting worse by the day, it's killing me.' When she was able to walk again she entered the bathroom, stripped off her dressing gown and nightshift and with a sigh of utter gratification she lowered herself in the hot water. As she had hoped the pain immediately abated; it worked better than a painkiller though, she had to admit, not as good as Fenris's wonderful fingers. At least, the influence of their work lasted longer. She leaned her head against the back of the tub and closed her eyes. 'Bless Orana and her bath,' she murmured. Her belly felt hard and uncomfortable but not alarmingly more than the past two weeks. And also that discomfort dissolved. The surrounding warmth lulled her in some kind of slumber until the cooling water woke her up. Time to get dressed and find a nice place in the garden to spend the morning with a good book and a pitcher of Orana's wonderful tasting iced tea. And to experience the amazing pleasure of peace and quiet. She clambered out off the tub and reached for a towel. At the same moment she got hit by a vicious cramp in the lower part of her belly. She winced with pain and with sudden insight realized the warm bath must have dulled the ache of the first contractions. This time the hardness of her belly hadn't been some kind of exercise, as Anders had put it. This time it was the real stuff.

'Oh no, not now,' she groaned, 'how could you! You, you ... you pigheaded piece of girl! Of all the days to choose from you have to pick this one!' She called out Rascal's name; she could send him to the Keep to fetch Fenris but when no reply came she remembered the elf had taken the dog this morning with him to the Barracks to teach the Guard a valuable lesson about being swift and run as hard as you can.

She was on her own.

Hawke straightened her back, her poor tortured back. 'Right,' she said determined, 'only one thing to do.'

Later she couldn't, for the love of the Maker, recall how she had managed to get dressed, if even in simple robes she just had to wrap around her and to reach the Keep. Hightown had seemed oddly and in a way eerily deserted. Even the merchant dwarfs were absent, seizing the opportunity of imbibing huge amounts of alcohol in the streets and market places of Lowtown. There was no one she could warn or ask for help. The Viscount Way went on forever; there came no end to the steps of the stately stairways. Ever so often Hawke had to stop when another contraction took her in a hot iron grip but finally she accomplished to conquer the stairs. She leant against a column to catch her breath and felt something warm and moist leaking down her legs. Great. Her water had broken. It couldn't get any better. So no time to loiter here. By now she was counting in contractions instead of steps and it took her three to stumble along the colonnade before she arrived at the Keep's entrance. Two men were standing guard and they stared with growing astonishment at her haggard appearance. _Fuck fuck fuck, why couldn't they have been women._

'Champion!' one of them cried out.

'Open. That. Bloody. Door,' Hawke panted aggravated.

Without further comment one guard threw the heavy doors open while the other rushed forward to grab her arm. Together they helped her inside and supported her but halfway the hall her knees gave way when a new particularly forceful contraction scourged her body. She couldn't suppress a loud scream.

'What is the meaning of this? Serah Hawke, what are you doing here?' suddenly a dour voice sounded.

Hanging between the two guardsmen Hawke looked up at the sulky face of Seneschal Bran who was standing at the top of the stairs. 'What does it look like I'm doing? Giving birth in your glorious hall, you moron,' she gritted incensed.

'What?' the Seneschal reacted in alarmed panic, 'you can't do that! You have to go home!'

'You would kick out a woman in labour?!' She had wanted to add a lot more words, something of the sort of very colourful swearwords but another torment took hold of her body; a particularly fierce torment that tried to squeeze her into a far too small corset made out of spikes with the help of fiery pokers. She came no further than a pitiful pained cry.

'Get Fenris over here, idiot!' one of the guards yelled at Bran, all due regards forgotten. The Seneschal turned on his heels and fled.

'Yes, Fenris,' Hawke mumbled, fighting for some air and sanity. 'I need Fenris.'

'Can I get you something, lass?' the elder of the two Guardsmen asked friendly, 'a glass of water perhaps? James, fetch a chair so she can sit down.'

'I don't want to sit down,' Hawke wheezed. For some reason she had the feeling that sitting down only would make things worse. She tried to gather some dignity. 'I'm sorry for this.'

'Don't worry about it, lass. My wife and I have four children so I know all about the inns and outs.' He grinned softly at the pun but backed down at the sight of her screwed up face. A woman giving birth for the first time was not a topic to be mocked with. Women giving birth in generally weren't. 'Don't worry,' he repeated remorsefully, 'you're doing fine.'

Halfway her stuttered answer a new wave of excruciating torture attacked her. Before she could prevent it she let out another scream of agony. And then she felt two strong arms around her and heard a soothing with dark sugar coated rough velvet voice. 'It's all right, love, I'm here.'

'Fenris,' she sobbed, overflowing with gratitude.

'Breathe,' he ordered her, 'keep breathing.' He breathed with her and together they overcame the next contraction. When it was over he looked over her shoulder. 'Has Anders been warned?'

'I, er I don't know,' the young Guardsman named James stammered. His elder colleague was trying to shake back some life into his squashed hand.

'See to it right now. Run to the Gallows as fast as you can.' He feared the First Enchanter wouldn't be here in time but at least they had to try. 'I would fight another Arishok anytime,' he heard Albran grunt, 'piece of cake, that one. Compared to this.' And despite the situation he had to laugh. 'Let's get you into the Barracks. We can find a decent bed there.'

Albran eyed the flight of steps separating her from that goal and her heart sank into her stomach. 'No, no more stairs. I can't handle more stairs.' She saw Donnic and Lieutenant Brennan had come with Fenris and were looking at her with anxiety. And again a powerful contraction deprived her off what she had wanted to say. 'My back,' she groaned because it felt like their child tried to make its way out of her body by her spine rather than taking the obvious road. Fenris lowered her on the floor and she felled a hand pressing into her tormented area.

'I know my mum had the same,' she heard Brennan say, 'pain in her back.' The lieutenant pressed some more and Fenris acted as some counterpoint. It was pure bliss. 'Thank you,' she breathed.

And then she felt a pressing force and the contractions changed. Suddenly all she wanted to do was push, get it over with, to get rid of this agony. To get rid of this child. She let out a loud groan. She swatted Fenris's hand away when he tried to gather her into her arms. 'Leave it,' she growled.

Knowing better than to oppose her, he called to no-one in particular, 'I need fresh water and clean cloth.'

Donnic darted away to do his bidding.

'Listen to me, love,' he said urgently.

She heaved herself and spat, 'No, you listen to me. I'm the one here giving birth and – fucking hell.'

Another pressing contraction hit her and deprived her of her speech. She screamed some more and some louder.

'You're doing well,' she heard Brennan say.

'Really?' She felt a scouring pain going down her vagina. '_You_ try to give birth to a ball of sandpaper,' she yelled with distress.

Vaguely she was aware of a whole bunch of Guardsmen who had gathered around the spot where she laid in agony; she couldn't care less. Fenris had taken position between her legs. It was not an entirely strange vision, though most of the times before it had given her pleasure, not pain. 'You _are_ doing wonderful,' he assured her. 'I can see the head.'

She was fighting for breath. Again.

'You're just saying that because – damn.' And another powerful contraction overwhelmed her. She had no other choice than to follow her instincts, to follow the language of her body that far better than her brain knew what to do.

'Push,' Fenris said calmly, 'one more time.'

And she pushed. She had thought she was exhausted but now she felt invigorated. New energy flew through her and filled her muscles with strong power. She pushed like mad. If only to get it over with.

'The head is standing,' she heard Fenris say from another universe. She was completely soaked up with doing this job. And at the same time her thoughts were fluttering. This was not happening. It was too unreal to be true. This wasn't her, lying on the cold marble floor of the Keep's hall, surrounded by Guardsmen and –women who just gathered here for a breather and a cold drink well earned after a hard training session on a hot summer's day. And now they witnessed the birth of her child.

'Push,' Fenris commanded again. And she did. With all of her might.

She could feel something slip. At the same time Fenris acted with speed and got a strong hold on whatever had appeared out of her body.

Suddenly the all-consuming pressure subsided and she fell back. Brennan caught her. The feeble and at the same time strong protesting wails of a new-born baby filled the air. Together with the simultaneous held and now exhaling breaths of at least twenty Guardsmen, young recruits and all. The all cheered and applauded.

She tried to see what Fenris held in his hands but failed. She just caught his face that looked a bit puzzled. He turned to her and smiled broadly.

'Congratulations my love,' he said with a badly concealed sob and at the same time brilliant smile, 'you just graced me with a wonderful son.'

'What?'

Hawke worked herself up on her elbows and with an unbelievingly look on her face managed, 'Son? Not a daughter? I was so certain ...'

Fenris looked the new-born over and said, 'If you insist on calling him a daughter, be my guest but our child has some, how to put it, an appendage I believe no girl has.'

She burst out with laughter and moments after with tears. Brennan embraced her, not ashamed to hold back her own tears. Donnic raced forward with some towels. 'It's the best I could do,' he said apologetically. Fenris wiped the most of the grease off his son with one towel and wrapped him in the other. He gave the little head a tender kiss before he presented him to his wife and laid him gently in her yearning arms.

She embraced the little body and put him close to her chest. She nuzzled him and smelled the sweet aroma he radiated. At the same time some old instinct stirred, a feeling she later called the female bear instinct, the overwhelming feeling to protect her child from any harm that could harass him. To murder anyone who would dare to hurt him. Then she took the time to take him in. A shock of pitch black hair, bright opened blue eyes that looked at her as if his life depended upon it, which, of course, pretty much was the truth when it came down to it, slightly curved ears but still recognizable as from elven origin, a very small lovely straight nose and a little pronounced pert chin.

'He is beautiful,' she sighed.

'He is,' Fenris agreed compassionated and kissed her softly. 'I'm so proud of you.'

'He looks just like you.'

Their son changed his piercing eyes and they lingered upon his father's face. 'My lovely sweet one,' Fenris said softly. Little arms wavered aimlessly and he caught a small hand. Tiny fingers clamped with strength around his suddenly huge seeming index finger and clutched with the force of a vice. It again brought him to tears.

'He recognizes your timbre,' Albran smiled, 'he listens to his father's voice.'

He kissed his son, he kissed his wife and held them both.

Anders barged into the Keep. He came to a slipping halt when he saw Albran lying with a little bundle in her arms and Fenris scooped over the both of them. Fenris turned his head while still holding on to his son, or the other way around.

'You're just in time,' he beamed, 'just in time to admire our child.'

With difficulty Anders managed to keep himself of sliding over the smooth marble surface any further. 'Can I hold him? To check him?'

After he had granted Fenris the honour to cut the cord he examined the little child but could not find anything amiss. It was a healthy baby, all ten little toes and fingers present, full of vigour and with a strong will to survive. He laid him back into his mother's arms. 'Have you decided on a name?'

'He has blue eyes,' Albran mused dreamily, not hearing the question at all.

'The colour of the eyes can change. I bet he will have green one's before the year is over,' Anders smiled. 'Will his name be "Blue Eyes"?'

'No,' Albran responded, still dreamily, 'his name will be Leto.'

Fenris sprang into attention, not to say he contorted. 'No! That's a slave name!' He shivered with disgust.

Albran looked up.

A little smile played around her lips. 'No love. It's the name your mother bestowed upon you. A name given out of love. A mother's love and by now I know what that means. It has nothing to do with slaves. On the contrary. The name represents freedom.'

He stared at her, in awe. 'You're right,' he managed in the end after a lot of consideration. She _was_ right, Leto _was_ a name given out of love. A name chosen in freedom, probably the only freedom his mother had known.

'I thought I was carrying a daughter, it turned out to be a lovely son. I want him to have the name you once had. The real name of the man I love. The name the mother gave to her son. The name I now choose for our son.'

And yet again he almost broke out in tears. He should be thankful. And he was.

She turned to Anders. 'You knew all the time, didn't you?'

'Yes,' Anders confessed, 'I knew all the time you carried a son and not a daughter.'

'I wonder how much money you have gained,' Albran grinned. 'And I bet Varric must have a field-day by now.'

'He hasn't because he was wrong. I won the bet but I will give it all to the funds of the poor,' Anders promised. 'And now we will have to move you to the Barracks. Whether you like it or not, this birth isn't over yet.'

The afterbirth was just a matter of moments. Fenris held her and together they held Leto. She never even noticed.

'Shouldn't I try to breastfeed him,' Albran asked hesitantly. She was sitting in her glorious four poster bed in her own house by now and Leto was slumbering with a heavenly expression on his mostly elven adorable little face in her arms.

Anders petted her. Any other to try that she would have knocked down. Or bit his hand off. Well, everyone besides Fenris of course. 'No. He has been fed shortly before his birth. Through the umbilical cord. Don't worry. The few spoons of sugary water Orana has given him will be enough for the coming hours.'

'Right.'

Fenris had accompanied her not an hour before to the estate while carrying their son. He had been willing to carry her also but she had firmly protested against it, stating she was very well capable to walk by her own. She had wanted to carry their son herself but in the end had granted him his moment of utmost glory by presenting Leto to the public. Because of course the news had run through Kirkwall like a wildfire. The Summer Festival and even the High Society Picnic had moved to Hightown and had turned into the celebration of the newborn son of the Champion and her spouse. She was proud of Fenris. In a way he resembled Orana and her fears when they had found her in those dismal caves hunting for Hadriana. The elven girl had conquered her nightmares, he had done the same with his. And now he was her husband and the father of her son, not afraid of showing his pride and happiness in public.

In fact she more than he had been terrified to face the people who had rushed from Lowtown and the pasture close to the city's northern gate to pay homage to her and their son. And all the time Fenris had glowed with ecstasy and held her close. He was the reason why she had been able to smile and descend the stairs she not hours earlier with so much stress had surmounted. He and little Leto.

And Orana who had hurriedly emerged from the mass to guide her into her own house. And had run her a bath. Again. And had changed Leto's nappies. And had embraced her and Fenris. Albran had been more than gratified to sink down in the pillows of her bed. Only then she had realized how tired she was.

And now came Varric. He slapped Fenris who was handing out drinks in the parlour to various inquisitive nobles the elf tried to keep at bay on the back. 'Best midwife she ever could get,' he beamed.' Without further ado he climbed the stairs and stepped into the bedroom, surprised he found Isabela.

The pirate queen had sat silently with Leto in her lap. She hadn't said anything, just had looked at the little boy. Now and again she had softly caressed his fuzzy black hair and touched his small straight nose. The moment Varric entered the room she gave Leto back to Albran. 'Enjoy him,' she said with a strained smile and disappeared.

'I think she has lost more that she is willing to share,' Albran said quietly.

Varric sat next to her on the bed. 'I think you're right,' he admitted. He traced a stubby finger along Leto's little sleeping face. 'You know I've never seen your elf so delighted. He definitely lost his former nickname. I think he doesn't even _know_ how to brood anymore.'

'You're going to turn this in some grandiose story, aren't you,' Albran said flatly.

'Of course I am,' Varric beamed some more, 'although I don't have to add much to the facts.' He cocked his head. 'Maybe I will come up with something like you gave birth in the middle of killing a high dragon. Or a harsh battle with Tevinter slavers.'

'Oh please, Varric, isn't the truth not sufficient for you? It was an idiotic situation enough as it was. I mean me lying screaming and pushing on the floor of the Keep's hall with all those guards assembled around me, Seneschal Bran throwing up, Anders coming too late and a very frustrated Aveline who'd missed all the fun because she had to confer diplomatically with some envoy of Orlais? The very envoy who so graciously joined Bran in the vomiting? And you want to drag dragons and slavers into it?'

Varric laughed. 'You're right, madam. This time the truth beats everything I can come up with. And to top it all the girl you were dead sure you were having turned out to be a boy.'

Albran turned her attention back to her son, doing so missing the sudden misted over eyes of the dwarf. 'And what a beautiful boy he is,' Albran chuckled. She cradled Leto close to her chest. The baby crinkled his small straight nose and let out a soft snort.

'Don't cuddle him to death, Hawke,' Varric said with a little warm smile, wiping the tears away.

'I'll try not to.' She looked up at a soft noise and saw Merrill and Sebastian standing in the doorway. The petite elf was in such a hurry she stumbled over the threshold and would have fallen flat faced if Sebastian hadn't caught her. She ran over to the bed and stopped in her tracks when her eyes fell on the sleeping baby.

'Oh Hawke, he is so beautiful!' she breathed in tears.

´You want to hold him?'

'May I? Really? Oh, I'd love that!' She took the small body into her arms and Albran was surprised to see she nuzzled him as she herself had done the moment she had held him close to her. 'He smells like, like fudge and caramel and sweet chocolate,' the elf sighed in adoration.

'He does, doesn't he,' Albran smiled.

'I could gobble him up right here and now. Isn't he the loveliest thing you ever saw?!' Merrill turned to Sebastian.

The Chantry brother looked back with bright eyes. 'He is,' he admitted. He nodded at Albran. 'I'm pleased to see everything is alright with you and Leto. But now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to assist Fenris with removing all the old know-all biddies out off the house. They are fanning all over him and he is getting nervous. I think you can give us a hand here, Varric.' He nodded again at her. 'I promise I will come back later to admire your son.'

Later that night, or perhaps early morning – both Albran and Fenris had lost track of time – Leto finally had become hungry. Without any hesitation he had found the nipple that would feed him and now he suckled eagerly, making soft satisfied sounds. His one tiny hand held on to Albran's breast while the fingers of the other one had clamped around Fenris's thumb.

'I could watch this forever and never get tired of it,' Fenris said. He had laid his arm around Albran's shoulders and she had snuggled close to him.

'Neither would I,' she said.

'You were right.'

'About..?'

'Naming him Leto. I'd thought you would want to call him after your father or brother however.'

She shook her head. 'No. I will remember them in my thoughts as I have always done. But our son has to carry your name. Not a dead person's name. A living name. And more important, like I pointed out before, a name given out of love.' She waved her free hand and cut him off before he could say anything. 'Yes, yes. Of course "Malcolm" and "Carver" are names given out of love, or at least respect. But there's more to this. You may not remember your mother or only have flashes of remembrance about her, she was the one who carried you and pushed you into this world.' She grimaced shortly. 'And believe me, that's no small feat.' Her expression softened. 'I want to honour her by passing on that name, even though I've never met her and I can't know why she chose that particular name.' She smiled apologetically. 'Well, perhaps it is about the dead after all. But it is also about your history, the little parts you can recall. And that's far more valuable than anything could be. He is your son also. He deserves to carry your name.'

Fenris was silent for a while, looking at his son, his very contented son.

Deserves ...' he murmured.

'Yes, Fenris, deserves,' she emphasised heatedly. 'You don't know half what a wonderful, unique, brilliant and great person you are. I love you, all of you, every inch, every move, every thought, even every flaw as far as you have any of them.'

Fenris kissed the top of her head. 'I should have been the one to say that.'

Leto chose that moment to let go of the nourishing nipple and let out a little burp. This was followed by a small but very satisfied sigh. They both laughed.

'I think that summarizes it all,' Albran smirked with a soft twinkle in her eyes.

**Thank to all of you who have taken the effort to read this story.**

**And as a last word, I fervently hope we won't forget about Hawke and Fenris now the Inquisition has been launched. Let's keep them in our hearts were they belong.**

**I love you all!**


End file.
